Category: Male Bonding

There’s a flattened feeling that pervades like depression when someone plays false, then leaves – as if being asked for the minimum reciprocation is a crime against humanity.

Can seem like realities.

Two steps, three steps, four…

If where I roam only encounters avoidants, I must reroute to more diverse environments.

“Yeah, don’t ‘mess with’ my delicate internal balance…” wry cackle of self reflection. “The team in here kind of takes that sh** rather seriously!”

“You deleted everything?” he asked, surprised by this unusual reprieve.

“I had no intention of ‘persecuting’ you in my need for self defending,” she admitted.

Of course she had told him to go away and never approach again unless he was serious.

His impulses left to their own command left a wake of “victim” delirium! 

“Where are you?” her mind called out to him. “I never wanted to hurt you!”

But the impulses tangling his behaviors were too much for him to undo.

She hated that she’d had to challenge him, and that this could have hurt his heart.

So she deleted all of their messages to allow memories to make a fresh start.

She stopped kissing him because she had a strange throat inflammation never before experienced, and she wanted to protect him – not give whatever it was to him, if it was an infection.

Yet, somehow, by no longer engaging, her mind became more clear, and her out-of-control craving diminished…

She began resisting his thrall once she felt his intentions shifting.
She listened to her heart, and gathered courage to speak for it.
She heard her mind’s logic, found it sound, and translated.
Instinct sensed an imbalace in justice and confronted, stopping his game propagating.
She wasn’t a pawn to be toyed with.
She was meant to have and deserved better treatment.
As she countered, he evaded and dissolved back into the elements.

Unaccountable

Vs.

Accountable

“Overhearing the brief but quiet, complex drumbeat surreptitiously played upon the conga in his passing, her ears pricked and heart skipped a beat, yearning for more – and realizing that she would not get any.”

“At risk for doing something foolish and stupid.”

“Hey! I won!” he yelled out in assertive frustration to no one in particular as he put distance between himself and this latest foibled encounter. “I had her right where I wanted her!”

As the ever vigilant guard dogs finally scented and chased the interloping Pied Piper out from the castle’s protective corridors, fierce currents of blast-hot air whipped about her gown and through her entangling hair as she stood backlit upon the night’s parapet overlooking the flickering scenery of the courtyard down below and clutched her barely-retrieved heart, wound-bleeding in her trembling yet careful hands, then coddled it against her now thrice-emptied bossom.

Watching him scramble with a yelp of fear over the barbed wire fencing where he had before just so easily glided through locked gate’s entry by seductive spellcasting, she wondered if there’d ever be a worthy suitor calling, now that the flames set by such earnest yet fleeting passion burned black scorch marks into the resistant, ancient-aged timber walls behind her, and her soul ached with regret as memory of his alluring song released its grip upon her.

“I’ve made a few…”

(Lyrics by the band Queen from “We are The Champions”)

“You’re pretty fiesty underneath all of that external reserve, aren’t you?” he ventured to joke, half-cautiously.

“Yeah!” she sparked up, unable to contain the tension bursting from within her.

“I’ve just grown into being intolerant if I sense any b.s. being thrown at me!”

That attempt at demeaning brush-off that certain men like to project onto women who have endured through hard trials, have grown and overcome despite them, and who are no longer naive and refuse to play “stupid.”

“Funny how boys grow into men and try to come back and kill the wyze and gracious dragon.

Always afraid of Truth.

Men avoid or try to kill it.”

“How are we to learn, if we don’t tell each other what is happening?”

For as much as certain men devalue emotions in women as invalid and irrational, they then ignore how theirs rule them – and how they thus feel justified in propagating further injustices.

“You think you can just toy with me?

I won’t try to hurt you – but I will let you know what I see!”

“She has the burden of ensuring that there are only wanted pregnancies; the burden of taking the hormones to prevent any; the burden of trying to stay sane, polite, and loving while the hormones rip her mind apart and ramp her emotional sensitivity beyond manageability; and she has the burden of dealing with the loss and rejection when she is discarded and replaced by or in favor of some soon other – making her become the victim of yet another crime of absolute and complete lack of accountability, responsibility, or any commitment from the man and/ or men who feed into her being continuously put into this position.

Because we all know that although men still expect perfection, they do not ensure that women can have any – and in fact, now take so much more and contribute even less (if at all) to help abate – let alone diminish – a woman’s deep distress that the man/men have propagated.”

Having fallen into the trap of yet another man’s disgarding ambitions, and realizing that the car accident’s injuries at least for another year would rank her as if she were in her seventies, her brief thoughts of trying to find a real love match got scrapped as she turned her attentions ever further inward.

Those men who go into sacred places where they take, yet have no intention of honoring nor contributing to.

“It’s a relief to no longer be on standby.”

“Please stop sending men to me who are NOT capable of reciprocating!”

What?!

Is love just a game?!!!

“I’m pissed because it seems I have a type that is attracted to me: young or old, kindly loving and nurturing one moment – then ever distant.

Talk about “daddy issues!”

All shapes and sizes, masked and chameleonizing, to reveal that same dead end I keep bumping up against.

I don’t know how to change this.

THAT’S what makes me bitter.

THAT’S what gets me down.

Men who are capable of the deepest, most profound loving, killing it – and allowing it to be dead and buried, underground.

You want to know what keeps propagating evil?

Men not standing up proudly for love’s light and fighting for the right to have it.

THIS is why our world is spiraling down.”

“That’s a whole different level that he ‘ain’t got time for.'”