In The New Booty-Call Contract, I take a humorous approach on the light-hearted topic of booty-calls. But upon reading this post on Until I Get Married, I realized that I was subconsciously touching upon the more serious underlying issue of intimacy. As I’ve mentioned before, Jozen is one of my absolute favorite bloggers. Except he has this way of making me feel horrible about myself lol. If you read between the lines of my booty-call post, you’ll see the actual legitimacy in my scrupulous rules.
All this time I thought it was the sex that was fucking me up, when in actuality it was the intimacy. Looking back at the last two men I had a “relationship” with things start to make more sense.
There was this guy from The Right Stuff who I thought would be the perfect candidate for a booty-call. To my surprise, it actually worked for a while. Even when he asked to read some of my posts, which to a female writer is equivalent to calling a woman beautiful, I didn’t flinch. Not to my surprise, it didn’t last very long. I can’t even remember when or what exactly happened, but one day he told me just enough to find myself wanting to know more. Even worse, I wanted him to know more about me. In other words, I wanted him to know that I was more than just a good fuck. That’s about the time I knew it was a wrap. Our ending in no way was ideal for me, but it could’ve been a lot worse.
Like the ending I had with the guy before him. I remember laying in bed with him and having conversations where he would only divulge JUST enough. It’s like he would open the door, but never actually let me in. We talked about the passing of his father on our very first date which he said surprised himself. But there were just certain subjects he wouldn’t elaborate on for obvious reasons. I often wondered why he just wouldn’t let me in. I remember one day wanting to scream at him saying, “You don’t want these women to know you’re actually smart? Or have a passion in life? You don’t care that all they care about is your dick?” After reading Jozen’s blog I now know the answer is a resounding NO.
I get it now. Women resist from allowing men inside their vaginas, and men resist from allowing women inside their minds. For men it’s a self-preservation tactic, or a way to not be held accountable for getting a drink thrown in their face. But since many women find sex and intimacy synonymous with one other, it almost feels like a double-standard. I also think women are willing to share more than men without it meaning anything, and it’s easier for men to separate emotions from sex. What kind of unfair shit is that?!
I almost feel duped. Should I have been fucking as I pleased instead of allowing men to get to know about my dreams, and fears, and quirky little habits? Have I been doing it wrong all this time? Despite everything I just wrote, I’m still going to say NO. The only thing I’ve been doing wrong is being careless with whom I spend my time with, and focusing on the wrong things. I shouldn’t have cared if he was the “perfect booty-call candidate,” I should’ve cared that I was the WORST. And it shouldn’t have mattered that he wouldn’t let me in, what should’ve mattered was I kept him OUT.