Heart in a Cage
Young men . . . hate women. Or at least, this seems like a pretty reasonable generalized truth.
In late 2003, about six months after my long-time girlfriend and I had broken up, I decided it was time to get back into the dating scene. One of the first girls I met was called Annie, whom I originally met at a music festival, but who later contacted me through a popular online networking Website. We chatted online, and eventually started spending time together.
Things moved slowly with Annie. Finally, frustrated and confused by my lack of progress (usually things with girls just fell into place), I called her one night when I was drunk and told her how I felt about her--a move that I can recommend highly to anyone who has relationship-changing information to reveal to someone else. She told me that she was flattered, but that she really just needed a friend, and wasn't interested in seeing me outside of that paradigm.
I was confused. I definitely felt an attraction between the two of us, and my track record was such that I just assumed that the natural sequence was that 1. I develop an attraction towards a girl 2. She notices and enjoys it. 3. We have lots of sex. In retrospect, I was probably just reading too much into comments, invitations, and outfits--her intentions were probably easier to decipher to someone not desperately trying to get close to her.
Most young men, I suppose, have an easy pit-trap: awkward socially, unable to express themselves, they end up loathing women as the Guardians of the Snatch, who are constantly denying them something that they can't have, and separate all women in theory into a strict bitch/whore dichotomy.
This was how it was for me, at least. If I was confused about Annie's intentions, Rosie, another girl I was seeing, made her intentions very clear.
Rosie and I met at the radio station I was working at, and she took to me exactly how, in my mind, girls were supposed to take to me when I showed interest. We slept together the second time we hung out. To say that we slept together makes it sound like a pretty routine thing: this goes here, you lie here, afterwards we get something to eat. It would probably be more appropriate to say that me and Rosie fucked the second time we hung out, and fucked every time we saw each other after that for several months. She would come over in the middle of the night after having been out with friends, or after class on the way to another appointment. When we were done we would either putter around my apartment or she would simply leave. There was no mystery about what was going on in our relationship.
The bitch/whore dichotomy is paralyzing for young men, making them simultaneously unable to express their sexuality to women for fear that the she will be afraid or loathe them for it, and then loathing (or at least losing respect for) the woman herself if she does decide to give them that which they consistently long for.
For me this happened mostly subconsciously. I loathed Annie for not giving me what I wanted, what I felt I deserved. I resented her putting my dick in a cage; I continued to stick around with the certainty that eventually she would figure out that I had what she wanted. At the same time, Rosie, a girl who was just as worthy of my affection, was springing my dick from that cage every time she came over, and I didn't respect her enough to take her out to dinner, introduce her to any of my friends, or clean my apartment before she came over.
Of course both situations didn't last long; each ended pretty much the way you might expect. I eventually told Annie that if she didn't want to take the relationship any further then I couldn't "stick around and be [her] emotional tampon." Rosie grew more and more infatuated with winning my affection as I conversely grew more and more selfish. As much as I enjoyed the time we spent together, I couldn't force myself to care enough to give her what she needed.
Young men . . . hate women. Or at least that seems like a pretty reasonable generalized truth. As I get older and have experiences like these, I can see how the egotism of young men and the naivete of young women can easily lead to self-destruction. Why some should be made stronger by their trials, and others sink into iniquity, is a deep and profound mystery to me.
Original idea and assistance by RF.
In late 2003, about six months after my long-time girlfriend and I had broken up, I decided it was time to get back into the dating scene. One of the first girls I met was called Annie, whom I originally met at a music festival, but who later contacted me through a popular online networking Website. We chatted online, and eventually started spending time together.
Things moved slowly with Annie. Finally, frustrated and confused by my lack of progress (usually things with girls just fell into place), I called her one night when I was drunk and told her how I felt about her--a move that I can recommend highly to anyone who has relationship-changing information to reveal to someone else. She told me that she was flattered, but that she really just needed a friend, and wasn't interested in seeing me outside of that paradigm.
I was confused. I definitely felt an attraction between the two of us, and my track record was such that I just assumed that the natural sequence was that 1. I develop an attraction towards a girl 2. She notices and enjoys it. 3. We have lots of sex. In retrospect, I was probably just reading too much into comments, invitations, and outfits--her intentions were probably easier to decipher to someone not desperately trying to get close to her.
Most young men, I suppose, have an easy pit-trap: awkward socially, unable to express themselves, they end up loathing women as the Guardians of the Snatch, who are constantly denying them something that they can't have, and separate all women in theory into a strict bitch/whore dichotomy.
This was how it was for me, at least. If I was confused about Annie's intentions, Rosie, another girl I was seeing, made her intentions very clear.
Rosie and I met at the radio station I was working at, and she took to me exactly how, in my mind, girls were supposed to take to me when I showed interest. We slept together the second time we hung out. To say that we slept together makes it sound like a pretty routine thing: this goes here, you lie here, afterwards we get something to eat. It would probably be more appropriate to say that me and Rosie fucked the second time we hung out, and fucked every time we saw each other after that for several months. She would come over in the middle of the night after having been out with friends, or after class on the way to another appointment. When we were done we would either putter around my apartment or she would simply leave. There was no mystery about what was going on in our relationship.
The bitch/whore dichotomy is paralyzing for young men, making them simultaneously unable to express their sexuality to women for fear that the she will be afraid or loathe them for it, and then loathing (or at least losing respect for) the woman herself if she does decide to give them that which they consistently long for.
For me this happened mostly subconsciously. I loathed Annie for not giving me what I wanted, what I felt I deserved. I resented her putting my dick in a cage; I continued to stick around with the certainty that eventually she would figure out that I had what she wanted. At the same time, Rosie, a girl who was just as worthy of my affection, was springing my dick from that cage every time she came over, and I didn't respect her enough to take her out to dinner, introduce her to any of my friends, or clean my apartment before she came over.
Of course both situations didn't last long; each ended pretty much the way you might expect. I eventually told Annie that if she didn't want to take the relationship any further then I couldn't "stick around and be [her] emotional tampon." Rosie grew more and more infatuated with winning my affection as I conversely grew more and more selfish. As much as I enjoyed the time we spent together, I couldn't force myself to care enough to give her what she needed.
Young men . . . hate women. Or at least that seems like a pretty reasonable generalized truth. As I get older and have experiences like these, I can see how the egotism of young men and the naivete of young women can easily lead to self-destruction. Why some should be made stronger by their trials, and others sink into iniquity, is a deep and profound mystery to me.
Original idea and assistance by RF.
posted by Chris Cusack at 8:47 AM
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