Today I am thankful for sparks.
I have a week where I can put off answering the question that I know he's begging to ask.
He's writing about sex....
about sealing the deal....
and thinly veiling it as a discussion about a sci-fi series.
Then he tried disguising it as political commentary.
I hang out with right wingers, they don't talk about sex in mixed company.
Quite honestly, I'm not sure he's talking about me. Maybe he's practicing on me so he knows what to say to the one he truly wants.
Seriously, does he know what he betrays?
Ugh....
A little self-disclosure here.
I'm what they call a physical suggestible.
I like sex.
I like metaphor when I'm in my beta state.
If I am relaxed or in a trance, you have to give me the commands in a straight forward fashion. You've got to tell me what you want. If I'm enchanted by you, you can't feed me metaphors about unicorns thrusting through rainstorms or any of that kinda stuff.
You've got to simply...grab me...show me....and
say it....
privately!
He's an intellectual suggestible. Everything has got to be explained and justified well in advance with logical summations.
Sex and love are illogical.
Waiting until I have a financial cushion and can help him out financially makes more sense. Until I can get my finances under control, I am not a relationship partner. I would be more of a friends with benefits partner.
I've never really done the friends with benefits thing. Every guy who has seen me naked has, for the most part, proposed to me. One didn't propose, he just talked about our married life together and tried to change my life around to better suit his dreams. That didn't happen. He's still around, too. I think we keep in contact so he can count his blessings he never bought me a ring.
We have always been more innuendo than action due to his fear of going to hell. He was incredibly religious and the concept of pre-marital sex freaked him out. It wouldn't work. I don't want a repeat of that relationship.
I'm a one guy at a time person. Men confuse the holy crap out of me. Any more than one and I'd probably short circuit and die.
I'm a little stumped here. How is one logical with love except to speak of it in terms of exchange?
Love is illogical.
I can argue with him against it more than I can argue for it.
I've never been close to an intellectual suggestible before. The other three were emotional suggestible.
All it took was me drinking a glass of milk through a straw
and
they were mine.
This one....I don't know what to do.
I can't think of any sexy science facts.
Maybe 3.14?
Hmmmm.....
Now, I've only met intellectual suggestibles at work. They tended not to trust people because they are afraid of being screwed over.
Maybe that is what is going on with my friend. Some chick screwed him over....maybe even cheated on him...so he has to intellectualize every friggin' thing.
Maybe...
If so, he can't be near me until my divorce is final. If I touch him, then it could potentially go to proving that all women are cheating snakes.
Or...not...
How does one know?
Hmmmm....I betcha he's an emotional suggestible bundled in a cloak of over-cognition. He says a lot more than he realizes when he talks about conspiracy theories. I still think those conspiracy theories are metaphors for what he's worried about.
If so...
He's not saving enough for retirement.
He's not earning enough money to pay the bills.
On the bright side, this guy would let me work and earn my keep.
He has the prettiest blue eyes. I don't know why I say that. It just came to me.
Maybe because there is a lot of unspoken things going on behind those deep blue eyes.
He's an emotional suggestible in hiding, isn't he?
I guess I can test it out with a glass of milk. I don't drink the crap anymore. Perhaps, I could spill it on my dress and see what he does.
Or not....
This is weird.
Maybe it is my three hours of sleep talking.
Maybe if I get to know him better, I can try to understand him.
The thing about trying to understand men is that it is in the trying to understand them that causes women to fall in love.
Love ya,
S.
P.S.
Just so I don't get shot in the middle of the night.....or somebody accuses me of not being a celibate prude.....um...this is fiction.
I never let a good gossipy story go to waste!
Cheers!