Is Romance Really Dead?

Why is it that romance is such a taboo subject these days? Is it because romance really is dead and a long forgotten concept? Or is it because we’re afraid to admit that we all, deep down, long for that special connection even though we might have accepted that it’s not something we’re very likely to ever experience?

I was six years old when I locked my heart away. Ever since I’ve made sure never to engage in relationships, or to acquire any possessions, that I couldn’t just walk away from at any given moment. And god knows I’ve walked away from people, money, property and possessions in my life. Never looking back. Never allowing anything to get too close for comfort and, potentially, being able to hurt me. As a survival strategy it has been brilliant!

The problem with survival strategies, though, is that they are effectively making it impossible to live your life. You survive. You get by. You find happiness in the small things and in fleeting pleasures. But at the end of the day you’re on your own. An empty vessel.

I was twelve when I began to inflict physical pain on myself to numb out the emotional pain. A year later I discovered that sex had the same effect. At 18 I devoted myself to my first truly disastrous relationship, finding comfort in the fact that the more mental and physical abuse you’re subjected to the less time and energy you can spend on your bleeding heart. The scars intertwine into an intricate pattern, and one day you learn how to reach subspace. That inner corner of absolute silence and serenity where no one can touch you no matter what they do to your body.

I was 25 when he ran out of tricks and left me, and I had no idea how to live on my own. How to make my own decisions. Or, indeed, how to get on with my days. The smallest chore became an insurmountable problem, and that almost forgotten initial pain reared its ugly head and began to tear my insides apart. Had it not been for my children, I honestly don’t think I would have bothered to live on. But minutes became hours that became days that became weeks that became years, and one day I woke up with this monstrous headache and a feeling that something was wrong. Or at least different. I realised I had slept a whole night for the first time in years, and that was in itself such a big thing that I knew I’d taken the first step up the beanstalk.

I was 38 when I took my kids and left my country to look for a new future away from prejudice and dusty memories. An independent woman capable of making my own decisions and living life whichever way I saw fit for my family. I needed a man as much as a fish needs a bike, and whenever people would get all rosy-eyed around me I’d laugh heartily and tell them romance was dead. I could give you a million perfectly good reasons for not wanting a man for anything but sex. I was self-sufficient, I was stronger than ever, and I’d be damned if I’d ever let anyone reduce me to a shadow again.

That was pretty much what I said to my man the first time I talked to him. He told me it wasn’t true, that I wasn’t true to myself and that I needed a man to look after me. I think I hated him in that moment! Not one to ever back away from a good argument, though, I soon found myself caught up in discussions with him and we can both talk for Britain. And talked we did. In fact, we’ve soon been talking for three years…

Romance isn’t dead – I know that now. We may scorn it, ridicule it, lock it away and learn how to get by without it, but I refuse to believe that people in general want to be alone. Nature neither made us solitaires nor pack animals. We were designed to pair up, make a hearth, create a home, make food and have babies. It was meant to be a lifelong deal; two people providing for their offspring until the day the offspring had to provide for the parents. Nature and necessity kept things in order for millions of years; but Nature didn’t create credit cards, the Internet, and the chase for the New Graal. That elusive thing we don’t really know what it is but that we’re all looking for.

As I’m struggling to find my bearrings in the Vanilla World, I’m allowing myself to get in touch with and embrace the pain that made me lock my heart away at the age of six. My man says that “patient man rides donkey” and I keep wondering if I’m the donkey. I’ve lost track of the number of times he’s asked me where my heart is, but I woke up the other day from a truly bizarre dream: I was looking through the zillion pockets of his work trousers to find my heart.

Romance is irresistible, but for some of us it has to be real and offered unconditionally and over a long period of time for us to believe in it. For me it took years of tentative texts, subtle hints, selfless gestures, proper seductions, champagne breakfasts, mini holidays and a neverending shower of love, trust, affection and support to start looking for my lost heart. I think it probably is in one of his pockets where he may or may not find it. That’s the coward’s way of handling the fear of rejection and abandonment. If you have a zillion pockets, I can put my heart in one of them and see what happens. Then I can adjust my response to your reaction should you ever find it and realise what it is.

Of all the fears in this world I think the fear of not being loved, not being good enough, is the greatest of them all. Romance isn’t dead, but it is real and cannot be replicated. So maybe the real question is: do you really want romance? And if you got it – would you be able to handle it?

A Cautionary Tale

My decision to leave the Intellectuals group has filled my inbox with messages from old friends and people I have no idea who they are. Some are wishing me good luck, some are suggesting I’m making the mistake of a lifetime and will end up hurt and humiliated.

Bill, one of those people who’ve always made me laugh, posted a cautionary tale about how he found what he felt was true love and how she bolted when he disclosed some truths about his swinging past. He said he was envious I am envious that I found a man who, though not of my persuasion, at least was able to handle the fact that I have a history and trusted that I could move on.

It’s funny how on this scene we often think we’re so liberated and independent and that we’ve got it all figured. But the truth is that being on this scene automatically excludes you from a number of other scenes and situations. Of all the things I would assume a man would hold against me if he ever considered “getting serious” with me, my attitude to sex has never been something I’d thought would make the list. But as it turns out it does.

Luckily, I have found a man who is braver, stronger and more generous than any other man or woman I’ve ever met. His values and beliefs are grounded in a traditional West Indian upbringing, whereas mine are grounded in a radical Swedish “red wine liberal” upbringing.

In his world Love is not a word, it’s a concept. When a man loves a woman he has to provide for her. She shalt never want for nothing and he shall never rest until he has given her all she needs. And all he asks in return is for her to provide him with a Home where there’s always food in the kitchen, and somewhere for him to rest his head in between hunting and foraging. Nothing makes him happier than coming home to a hot home made meal and spending time with the family.

In my world Love was a word that described my feelings for my kids. End of. I’ve basically lived alone with my kids for 22 years and I’ve never needed a man for anything but sex. I’ve seen how the Love business have made people sell-outs, and I’ve seen most of my friends engage in relationships that were doomed from start just because they were afraid to be alone.

One day our paths crossed and our worlds collided. It was the beginning of a friendship that was the beginning of a relationship that was the end of my life as I knew it. He took me on lock, stock and barrel and said he couldn’t change my past but he would shape my future. And now remains faith, hope and love… =)

Don’t be envious, Bill – you might be next in line for a ticket to Vanilla World…

The Queen is Dead

Eddie, one of my old groupies from the Intellectual’s group, wrote: The Queen is dead – long live the Queen(s)! It was sweet of him to salute me, but even sweeter to salute the two ladies that are taking over the reins.

I don’t know what my future holds – for all we know I may be back online looking for casual sex before Christmas… But I do know that I’ve reached a stage where I’m prepared to jump off a cliff without safety devices just for the hell of it.

Maybe I’m making a fool of myself. Maybe I’ve found something that will last for the rest of my life. I don’t know and I don’t take anything for granted. The one thing I know for sure is that I wake up every morning feeling happy that he is a part of my life, and I go to bed every night feeling happy at the thought that this is what my future might be like.

So what, if it doesn’t work out? I’m ready to let go of my fears and foibles to find out. And that is quite an exhilarating feeling for an old commitment phobic… =)

Time to Say Goodbye

There was a time when I never thought I’d write this post. I’ve been on aff for around six years now (in two rounds) and it has given me a whole lot more than I bargained for, but now I’ve reached a point in my life where it is time to make a choice.

Some of you may know that I fell into bed with one of my best friends and colleagues last autumn. I had lusted after him for two years, but had no intention of pursuing it as it could be too awkward when you’re working together. But then, one night, he seduced me good and proper and we’ve not let go of each other since… =)

Eight months down the line we’ve both left our previous partners and I’m at a crossroad. My man is not a swinger. I tried to introduce him to my lifestyle (I even tricked him into a threesome with another woman) but he wasn’t impressed. He would never accept me playing with someone else (man OR woman), so my presence on a swinger’s site is becoming a bit pointless.

I’m not leaving today as I still have a few bits to sort out, but I will be out of there by the end of the summer. Today I handed over the moderatorship of my Sex for the Intellectuals group. It has been a lovely place and I would hate to see it turn into just another noticeboard for nonsense and desperate mating calls, but it is no longer down to me what happens there. My path is leading me elsewhere.

Quotes on Love and Marriage

“Love at first sight is easy to understand; it’s when two people have been looking at each other for a lifetime that it becomes a miracle.” – Sam Levenson

“For two people in a marriage to live together day after day is unquestionably the one miracle the Vatican has overlooked.” – Bill Cosby

“Marriage – as its veterans know well – is the continuous process of getting used to things you hadn’t expected.” – Tom Mullen

“If you want to sacrifice the admiration of many men for the criticism of one, go ahead, get married.” – Katherine Hepburn

“The trouble with some women is that they get all excited about nothing – and then marry him.” – Cher

“Happy marriages begin when we marry the ones we love, and they blossom when we love the ones we marry.” – Tom Mullen

“When two people are under the influence of the most violent, most insane, most delusive, and most transient of passions, they are required to swear that they will remain in that excited, abnormal, and exhausting condition continuously until death do them part.” – George Bernard Shaw

Dictionary of Dating

ATTRACTION – the act of associating horniness with a particular person.

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT – what occurs when two extremely horny, but not entirely choosy people meet.

DATING – the process of spending enormous amounts of money, time and energy to get better acquainted with a person whom you don’t especially like in the present and will learn to like a lot less in the future.

BIRTH CONTROL – avoiding pregnancy through such tactics as swallowing special pills, inserting a diaphragm, using a condom, and dating repulsive men.

EASY – a term used to describe a woman who has the sexual morals of a man.

EYE CONTACT – a method utilized by one person to indicate that they are interested in another. Despite being advised to do so, many men have difficulty looking a woman directly in the eyes, not necessarily due to shyness, but usually due to the fact that a woman’s eyes are not located in her chest.

FRIEND – a person in your acquaintance who has some flaw which makes sleeping with him/her totally unappealing.

INDIFFERENCE – a woman’s feeling towards a man, which is interpreted by the man to be “playing hard to get”.

INTERESTING – a word a man uses to describe a woman who lets him do all the talking.

IRRITATING HABIT – what the endearing little qualities that initially attract two people to each other turn into after a few months together.

LAW OF RELATIVITY – how attractive a given person appears to be is directly proportionate to how unattractive your date is.

NYMPHOMANIAC – a man’s term for a woman who wants to have sex more often than he does.

SOBER – condition in which it is almost impossible to fall in love.

I’m a Woman, Ok – Not a Damn Car!

I read a very interesting account of a black man’s take on swinging where the bottom line was that black man don’t share. The author was discussing differences between white and black men on the scene and possible reasons for these differences. I can feel a number of blogs of my own coming up as a result of this, but today it’s time for another Xlnt rant.

The man made a comparison where he used a car analogy: “Past experience proves that when I’ve released my BMW to be driven by someone else the guys have tried to hog her and some cheeky buggers even tried to get a key cut so they could drive her whenever they wanted. For a black guy respect is everything. Give a black guy respect and doors open. So when a single guy gives me respect, be it directly or indirectly by the way he approaches my lady, he doesn’t need to get a key cut. He can borrow mine.”

I think I see what he was trying to say, but I have a big problem with the reasoning here. See, I ain’t a fucking car! Cars, per definition, can be bought, sold and borrowed, because they are all owned. But I am not, have never been, and will most definitely never become nobody’s possession. I will never be yours – you will never be mine – because the days when people could own each other are long gone.

Surely, you’re not saying swinging is about ownership? Rules and boundaries are good, as they can help establish a safe playground for both parts. Without them, any relation (regardless of its nature) can easily turn fascist. But it takes two to tango. And although technology has blessed us with talking cars, I have yet to come across one that tells its owner – “Sorry, luv, I don’t want to go to Clapham today, I think a trip to Bournemouth would be more fun.”

Cars don’t have feelings. Cars don’t have brains. Cars don’t have a will of their own. Cars don’t break down if their owner drives another car, or buys a second/third car. Cars don’t even care if other cars whisper behind their back that their owner has been known to ride a bus every now and then. Because, quite frankly, cars don’t give a rat’s arse about who they belong to or who’s holding the keys.

People, in general, do.

There’s No Need to Be Touchy!

Why is it that people have such huge problems with disagreements? Every online forum I’ve been a member of has had problems where people have fallen out with each other in proper playground fashion. What? You don’t like what I say? Well, have a spade smashing down on your head and some sand thrown in your face for good measure! I don’t know why I bother! I’m gonna storm off and sulk now!

Jeez, what’s your problem? A discussion board is, after all, a forum for discussion. We don’t have to agree about everything. If we did the boards would die. To me a board is a place where I can interact, get to know people and learn new things. I think online forums can be as inspirational as they are educational.

So, why bother? Well, anything we say or do – on a discussion board or in real life – may be misinterpreted and cause unintentional offence. The risk of misinterpretation is even higher when we only have written words to convey the intended meaning of a message. But is that reason enough to stop interacting with other people? I don’t think so.

The reason why I bother, even though my posts can be misinterpreted, is because I enjoy discussions. I enjoy meeting new people and delve into the depths of their minds. I don’t need them to agree with me, but I want to understand where they come from. I don’t need them to like me, but I want them to be respectful towards me and each other in the civilised way most people expect adults to behave.

I find that I get all of this, and more, in abundance from my groups, and that’s why I bother.

Foreploys and Wordplays

In 2005, the Washington Post’s Style Mensa Invitational asked their readers to take any word from the dictionary and alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.

Here are some of the winners:

1. Intaxication – Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realise it was your money to start with.

2. Reintarnation – Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

3. Foreploy – Any misrepresentation about yourself, for the purpose of getting laid.

4. Cashtration (n.) – The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.

5. Sarchasm – The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn’t get it.

6. Inoculatte – To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

7. Hipatitis – Terminal coolness.

8. Osteopornosis – A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)

9. Karmageddon – It’s like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it’s like, a serious bummer.

10. Glibido – All talk and no action.

11. Dopeler effect – The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

12. Ignoranus – A person who’s both stupid and an asshole.

Hot Damn, You’re the Man!

For J, in the slightly modified words of Danko Jones:

“I wanna ride with you honey
I wanna roll around the kitchen floor
I wanna fight with you honey
So we can make up and make love some more
You gotta little bit of soul in your step
You’re the best man I ever met
You never ever do what you should
Baby how did you get to be so good?

Hot hot hot hot…
Hot Damn, you’re the Man for this lady!
Hot hot hot hot…
Hot Damn, you’re the Man Baby!”

All I need to figure out now is how to actually tell you so…