Having My Cake...

There's a thought that's been bouncing around in my head these past couple of days. It's something that was said to me. Can't shake it. It was merely this: "I wish I could be what you want; I wish I could be what you need me to be."


It was a sweet sentiment. Sincere, as well. I couldn't help but to believe it. However, I've heard it too often in my life for me to just...settle for it. I know not how often I've heard countless women tell me that I'm a great catch but they don't see me that way or I'm not the one for them or that I'm that man they want to be with in a few years but "not just now." (That one is my all time personal favorite, for some reason.) It's gotten to the point where it doesn't even phase me. Truth be told, every time I talk to a woman, be her a friend or otherwise, I already anticipate the likely conversation. It's either full of unnecessary reaffirmations or rife with cautionary truths filled with carefully worded phrases meant to spare my feelings.

...feelings...

I'm not quite sure mine are all there anymore.

You hear these things long enough and you get jaded. That's where I am at the moment. I'm trying to prioritize my life and to do that, I know I have to actually know what I want. Do I really want to settle down? Do I want to start a family? Or do I want to continue viewing women as disposable treasures? Do I want to keep having wave upon wave of meaningless sex with countless women ranging from the insecure to the sex-crazed? Is it possible to have both?

That's what I got into with Dolly. She's the one that said that quote at the beginning of the blog. If you're a loyal follower of this blog, you'll remember that she and I had a very tumultuous episode a little under a year ago. Anyway, she said what she said and then told me that if she gave me what I wanted, that it would be fake. That threw me. I mean, one person's "fake" is another person's "fantasy." I don't need a clear-cut definition of what is real and what isn't. If and when I fall in love again, I'd like to think that I'd recognize the situation for what it is. For some reason though, I'm not conveying that confidently enough. However, I can see why that's difficult with me. I love unconditionally. Be you a friend or family, if the word escapes my lips, it originated from my heart and my heart has been broken and pieced back together so many times that it can only love in that way. I guess that, even though I'm saying I want a fling, maybe Dolly (and perhaps damn near every other woman on the planet) doesn't think I can keep it that way. That sucks too because the ones that do think I'm all about a fling are the ones that want a real relationship with a guy. My wires must be crossed or something.

I haven't ruled out walking down the aisle and having little munchkins running around the house and driving me crazy. I really do want that. Right now though, I'm lonely and it would be nice to get some TLC from someone who you love already as a friend and more. Someone whom you have been intimate with and knows how to push all the right buttons.

There's nothing wrong with that, is there?

Unspoken For.

I'm trying to figure out if I want a girlfriend or not. It may not sound like a difficult question but it is for me. I miss the intimacy, sure. I am quite lonely; that's a given. Nevertheless, am I ready for a full-blown, legitimate, honest to goodness, committed to one person relationship? I don't know. I'm feeling torn and very confused. (And for those of you reading this that are already calling me a dog, FUCK OFF! I'm being honest! Last I checked, women want that quality in a man.)

I always thought that I could be a bachelor for the rest of my life and just enjoy a woman's company when it suited me. However, I'm set in my ways. After awhile, I expect certain things out of a woman and the Good Lord knows no one woman is like another. Each one far too unique to be mistaken for another. That being said, what the fuck happened to blowjobs?! Seriously! Is there like a BJ boycott or something I'm not aware of? If there is, it sucks and, ironically, it's the only thing that does! (That pun was very much intended!) In a weird way, I'm kind of happy that women aren't throwing that out there all the time. That just helps me discern how deep I'm getting into the relationship. (If there is one forming, that is.) Basically, I take the blowjob as the high sign that the chick is digging me but I digress. I think I've stayed off topic long enough.

To girlfriend or not to girlfriend? That is the question and while I want to, I'm a bit apprehensive. The truth of the matter is, even though I've matured a lot since my last relationship, I know I have the potential to fuck a relationship up as if I had a PhD in fucking up relationships. I start off strong and then I somehow manage to screw up a good thing. (Seriously! I've been doing it since the Corps days.) Still, I won't lie. The only reason I'm writing this blog entry is because I have an interest in someone. Perhaps I just answered my own question.

I Just Lost One.

I've been brooding as of late. Too much on my mind. Since I haven't been around the blogosphere in awhile, I'll just cut to the chase: I got a girl pregnant. Now to tell you that story I have to tell you this one.

A decade or so ago, while I was in the U.S. Marine Corps, I was a communicator and worked with a lot of equipment that gave off a lot of radiation. Nothing murderous (that we knew of anyway) but it was known that it did give most of my sperm a tan, so to speak. Damn near everyone I served with, within my MOS, that had children almost always had girls. The reason being, is that said radiation from the equipment almost always destroyed the Y chromosome that made it possible to have boys. Well, my condition was a bit more severe. Apparently my sperm count was never up to par. At least, it wasn't as strong as when I started fucking at the ripe old age of 14 years old. (Go Mannix!) The docs said that would improve over time and that I shouldn't worry.

A year and some change ago, however, I went for a check up and my sperm count was still sub par. "Oh well," I said to myself. I consigned myself to the fact that I couldn't have kids. It wasn't just because of the opinions of a few physicians either. I was in a 3 year relationship with my then girlfriend and I know we had a ton of would-be accidents (most of them alcohol induced) and before her, I was in an on and off relationship with another woman for far longer that that and, since we were with each other and exclusive for so long, the use of protection was almost a non issue. Furthermore, these were women I had commited to. All that time, in two different, serious relationships and not one accident.

So now, I'm single. Shooting the shit. Having fun. Haven't been with a girl in awhile so, naturally, I jump at the chance when, pardon the term, "pussy presented itself" so willingly. How could I resist? The person in question wasn't a stranger either. It was just someone that I didn't think I would ever bed. A friend, let's call her Dolly*. (And yes, she's in a relationship with another person. Nothing I'm proud of but nothing I'm ashamed of either. It was one of those spontaneous, heat of the moment things and the sex was phenomenal!) We have no intentions of ever getting serious; no intentions of ever starting a family. So naturally, now I have the ability to have a kid. Now my sperm starts wanting to do it's job.

I could blame the new exercise regimen and proper diet I was on or just divine providence for my newfound vigor and "testicular fortitude" but that's irrelevant. What I can't help but find ironic is the fact that I conceived a child with a woman that I knew would never keep my seed.

Seeing my Goddaughter's deadbeat father and knowing of countless other stories of similar deadbeats, I know I would never be that way. Moreover, I wanted the child. Lord knows if this ONE time was just a fluke. That's all that kept running through my mind when I asked her what she wanted to do even though I knew the answer to that question before I asked it. She made a choice and as much as I hated this one particular choice, I respect her right to make it. To her credit, she seriously considered having my child. Knowing full well I may never have this opportunity again, she actually considered pretty much putting the kibosh on her entire relationship just to sire my child.

As depressed as I am about not having the privilege of being a father, I cannot fault her nor can I ever be mad at her. Not many friends, not even close ones, would ever even consider sacrificing so much.

So here I am, still brooding on the loss; still dreaming of the prospect of ever cradling a son or daughter of my loins in my arms. However, as much as I am saddened, I have newfound hope. It very well may be possible that I am still very capable of having a child of my own. Nevertheless, if I regret nothing else, I will anguish over one thing: My baby would've had the most beautiful eyes one could ever hope to gaze at.

*Names have been changed. Honor has to be protected.