He's Just in it for Sex

I recently wrote this as my status on FaceBook:

All of the males I know say of other men "Oh, he's just in it for sex". Uh, um, so....

I'm still left unresolved. If every male I know says he's just in it for sex in a negative manner about other men, are they also saying it about themselves?
Which brings me once again to the question of love vs sex. Here are my thoughts:

I have bandied about the phrases "love" and "in love" too many times to count, and I will continue to do so most likely until the day I die. I love so many men, I'm in love with many of them too. Not the kind of in love that doesn't last the kind of in love that brings joy to my heart. I have said "if you can make me laugh, I'll fall in love with you" it's so true. Do I fantasize about sex with these men? That's my business, do I flirt, hell yeah! Love is weird, it comes from the heart when you least expect it. It's fleeting, it's deep, it's forever, sometimes it dies. "In love" is more confusing to me. I've never gotten beyond first grade "in love". I kissed Steven Rosenberg on the cheek in the back of the class. That was the beginning for me, I don't even think we ever spoke. Hit and run, that's me. I prefer the word smitten, it's so non-committal and better describes feelings.

As for sex, I have loved sexual partners, I have been in love with sexual partners, I have had no feeling for sexual partners, and I have been date raped. No means No guys. I have had bad sex with men I love and I have had great sex with men I don't love. I have fallin in love during sex for a moment, and then afterwards wondered why I'm there. I've had angry "I'll show him" sex. I've had one last time sex (that never seemed to be one last time even if it took years to happen again) and I've had can we just get this over with sex.

My one friend's response was "and women are in it for....??"
To which my reply is: What the heck do I know. I just hate it when it ends.

"Hubbell, it's Katie."

Have you ever cried during sex? I have, not a lot but it has happened.

When I'm "caught" of course I lie. I've always tried my best to hide it but sometimes depending on how you wind up, the tears role in a bad position and then you can't get to them because your hands are God knows where, so you hear him say "are you crying?" Busted! Honestly this doesn't happen often, how could it, after all? So, what do I say? "YEAH??? WTF is that about?" or "It's nothing, happens sometimes just an emotional release....women?"

Why do I really cry? Sometimes, just for a second, my head interrupts the fun that my body is having. (at least when it is having fun) Once my brain goes there, my heart shifts into immediate reaction and triggers the tear.

Where does my brain go for that two seconds? To the reality of the situation, to the heart of the matter. To the fact that this has nothing to do with love. To the knowledge that it's possible I could have a brown paper bag over my head and it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference. To the reality that I am not special.

But more than that...neither is he.

Love in the 21st Century

During the 17th Century the average life expectancy in Colonial America was under 25 years of age.
The average 21st Century American is expected to live until the age of 78.


Now let's talk about this "Until Death Do Us Part" stuff.


Anyone who knows me, knows I love love. 
What's not to love about feeling like crap half the time and elated the other half? I even love the concept of marriage. In fact, just to prove this I have tried it three times. I have come to the conclusion that not only is marriage illogical, but it is also not meant to last forever. Maybe back when people lived to the ripe old age of 25. But today? I think it isn't natural. People change, situations change, needs, desires, expectations, all change as we age. It's very difficult to change at the same rate as your partner or in the same direction. 


I know couples who have been together for what seems like forever. These couples usually hooked up in their teens or early twenties. Had kids, went through ups and downs, and are still together. Some look quite happy. Who am I to say they are not? Still, I'm guessing there is a fair portion of long time married couples who are very comfortable with their double incomes and joint properties. At this point they don't want to forfeit the lifestyle they have become accustomed to. No one wants to rock the boat, so they've pretty much accepted their lot in life, or marriage as the case may be.


I believe that romantic love can last forever. It ebbs and flows but once you really love somebody whether having been in love or not, you don't usually stop loving them. You may stop liking them, but like it or not you'll always love them. 


Which brings me to a series of question I ask myself:

1. If I no longer feel love for someone I once loved, did I ever really love that person?
2. How do I define romantic love?
3. Can romantic love change to just regular everyday, run of the mill love?
4. What is "run of the mill" love?

Each question on its own could most likely be a stand alone blog.
For now I'll just fain a headache and move along.

Fess Up Karen

It wasn't just rainy days and Mondays that got you down.
My guess is it was love.
Lost love, love never found, unrequited love or not enough love.

Maybe you didn't feel loved (at least not by the person you needed love from)
Did you deprive yourself because you felt unworthy? Un-lovable?

The lilting voice of a songbird that brought joy, now brings tears. Loved by so many, known to so few.

Dead at 32.

"And when the evening comes we smile,
So much of life ahead"

Alone in my Bed

I have been married 3 times. I will be 57 at the end of this year. I got married for the first time at 23. That's 57 minus 23 equals 34 divided by 3 equals 11.3333 yrs. The first one lasted 2 years, I'm giving myself extra credit for this, it was pure naiveté. Throw in the fact that those 34 years were not all spent married, albeit spent living with the future spouse. I will, with confidence claim to have 2 solid marriages lasting 16 years each. Which is not bad. One cannot say I did not try.

I am alone in my bed, again.