(Continuing "My Predator Half")
I've been punished for my honesty, punished for my rawness. I've been potentially banned from the lover's seat and thrown at the fuck buddy bench since opening up about my sexuality. I've been looked down as a desensitized woman with horny porn fetishes that sees men as naked shadows haunting legs around town. I've been mistaken for a cold stoned heart hunter that dismisses love.
What the hell??? I never meant that.
I do appreciate men as much as they appreciate women. And lets be honest here, a part of being single is the sudden ability to notice people around your world that you usually wouldn't take the time of the day to analyze. It's all so new; it feels almost like an anthropological study of a strange tribe. There is this undeniably open slot in my heart standing by to be fulfilled, and until I find the guy - and take my time to make sure it's right - I feel completely free to explore my perversions through observation.
I'm far from undressing every man I look at. Sometimes, whenever they forget the pressure to prove their masculinity, I catch myself intrigued and somehow infatuated by their vulnerability, that's when I watch them. That does not make me want to jump on their faces either to be fucked by them; it just makes me appreciate their manhood. Contrarily to what it may seems, I do not think about a cock when I look at a guy I like, it's actually the opposite. As my dear Manu says, my clit is on my brain; I see the charm, the wisdom, the personality first, the rest is all playfulness.
It's a double standard. It's ok for men to be ferocious and voracious; It's ok to want to eat women alive and to make open remarks about every skirt that passes by; It's ok to masturbate, to watch porn, to talk about sex disregarding true feelings, it's okay to be dirty; yet, we women can see through it and invest in them, knowing there is a much softer layer underneath the Macho Shell, no matter how thick they let it get. But for women...You are either the girlfriend material type or the depraved fuck, either the prey or the predator. Either or.
I truly believe I'm both.
I'm all in one.
Aren't we all?
My perversions don't take away my romanticism. My erotic fantasies don't overpower my yearn for love. My obscenity is fueled by intimacy and complicity. My sexuality comes along with the need for the right person to share it with.
It might be that I'm just unusually comfortable with my sexuality, but I'm as human as any other man and woman. I feel as lonely, or sad, or excited or melancholic or cheerful, or in love as anyone else. Ultimately, we all want the same things.
Love and happiness.
I want to be loved as much as any Christian girl would. I want to be two and one alone as much as any virgin with marriage dreams would. I want to be cared for and watched over, to be caressed and looked with tenderness as much as any Disney Princess would. I want to be the apple of his eye. I want to love and be loved and cry and laugh together. Tenderness and voracity, hunger and fulfillment, perversion and love, they all walking together.
I may be a liberal queen with family dreams, I just don't allow myself to fall under our society pressure to follow their format - I'm figuring out my own.
I don't look for strict definitions to my being. I don't fit in any specific profile. I'm good and bad, angel and devil, amoral and ethical, perverted and loving, I'm all of it. I don't have the need to restrict my margins, either to hide my perspective of this Human, All-Too-Human world. I accept my paradoxes and contradictions with a soul free of judgment. I welcome my humanity and the complexity of it disregarding acceptance.
Still, I want to be loved.
