Um, One More Thing

I shouldn’t get married, men drive me crazy. I don’t mean that in a bad way, but it really is true. I have no idea how to communicate with them. I’ll compose one phrase in my head but it comes out of my mouth in another way. I don’t know how that happens. I don’t know how to present myself to them. I over analyze everything that occurs when I’m around them. I don’t know how to flirt. I’m not kidding when I shyly look away, I really am shy. I get suddenly embarrassed and I’m not certain what I’m supposed to do next. No literally, what is the next move? Do I keep eye contact or am I supposed to smile? Am I supposed to say something? I have no idea. I think my fate is sealed now. I think it’s too late to learn new tricks.

Don’t misunderstand, I know HOW to do things meaning that I understand how to work my vocal chords in tandem with my mouth muscles to form words and I could describe all facets and definitions of sex to an alien well enough that the being would have a mental picture of it, but it’s one thing to describe it and another to be able to intuit when one move is done and another move should begin. It’s the transitions that I don’t understand. At what point do you go from just standing there to kissing? Watching movies is no good, their cues are in the script. It’s like watching a flock of geese swimming around on a lake and then suddenly something happens where they all take off into the air. I sat there once for almost an hour trying to see that one little cue that tipped them all off. I never saw it. How did they all know to start flying at the same time?!

I feel like there’s a part missing in my head, like I’m short circuited. I’m missing a slot on my motherboard. My imprinting was interrupted by violence at a crucial stage. Man, I wish I could put the blame on that but I can’t. It’s just me. Once you become an adult, you can’t blame your current actions on your past.

I want to skip over the transitions and jump right into having the comfortable, slightly messy TV room which is different from the living room, where you’re sacked out in front of the TV after dinner on one of the big comfy chairs with one kid on the computer and the other kid on the phone and your hubby across the big, wooden coffee table laying in the short, overly soft loveseat, with his feet hanging out over the edge, both of you making one-liners every now and then based on whatever bullshit flashes across the TV screen at any given time.

My friend had that. I used to love to come over and watch America’s Next Top Model with her and her daughter while the son was at the computer NOT doing homework and the hubby was kind of watching with us but kind of not but still making one-liners every now and then based on whatever bullshit Tyra was putting on the screen at any given time. She’s getting a divorce now. I didn’t see that transition at all either.

Fuck it, when does Spring get here? No really, when does Spring get here?