Are you sure you want to date me? I’m not an easy person to be with. I am messy and complicated and contradictory and difficult and obnoxious and tenacious and abrasive and stubborn and judgmental.
I am also smart and funny and timid and bold and uncertain and needy and loving and loyal and absolutely devoted.
Nothing will ever be easy. First I want my way, then I want you to decide. I’m always cold—unless I’m so hot that I am getting ill from the heat. I want to snuggle up all night until my body temperature increases and then I will kick you and the blankets away from me and take off all of my clothes without waking up. I want you to stroke my hair to put me to sleep. I want you to hand me my Ted and have another bear that is lying really close to you so that it almost looks like you are snuggling him, but you have your pride—yet somehow in the middle of the night you end up holding him. There is comfort in it and there is no reason why. I talk in my sleep. I will probably wake you up to ask you some inane question and have no memory of it in the morning. I have horrible nightmares and I sometimes need to be woken up and held until I stop crying. I have trouble going to sleep and I can sleep through just about anything.
I will eat anything. But I hate onions. And I don’t like seafood of any kind (tuna out of a can doesn’t count as seafood but any other kind of fish out of a can does). I’m not big on chocolate, I will almost never go out of my way to eat it, but I can’t keep my hands out of the M&M bowl and I don’t like peanut butter much but I love Reece’s Pieces and Peanut Butter Cups. I think top ramen is just about the best thing ever. I love vanilla ice cream and cake better than any other flavor, though Cherry Garcia is god’s gift to mankind. On any desert menu I am most likely to order something with apple’s in it over any thing else. I love McDonald’s and I hate Burger King. I love Pacific’s Edge and La Fondue and Ruth’s Chris and Mr. Chau’s and I will dress up as fancy as possible to go have dinner at Denny’s just because I want to.
I am a neat freak and a total slob. I will talk a lot about how much I want things to be perfectly neat and tidy and then I will sit on my freaking computer and not do the dishes for two days. Oh god, just make sure the toilet doesn’t get gross—that just isn’t ok. I am happy to do the laundry and I suck at putting it away. I like hanging out in grocery stores; I think they are hours and hours of amusement. I like to cook, but I don’t know what and I need to follow some sort of recipe or I am convinced that it will suck. I think breakfast is wonderful for dinner and I think pizza is for breakfast.
I need to be able to boss you around and I don’t want to be dominant. I am submissive and a control freak. I want you to hurt me, until you start hurting me. Then I want it to stop. Then I am very sad because you stopped. It hurts so much that I feel like I will go insane if it doesn’t go away and I feel like the only time I am sane is when it is happening. I love bondage and I get really impatient when I am being tied up. I love single tails and canes and I think paddles and floggers are evil. I love being cut and I am terrified of needles. I want to be your little girl and your little slut and your Princess. I want to play in public and I don’t want to be watched. I want you to have trouble deciding if you want to take me out and show me off or if you want to keep me home all to yourself.
I want to be the center of your world and I don’t want you to stifle me by being obsessed with me. I want to have the option of spending obscene amounts of time with you and I want us to both choose to have friends and hobbies that the other isn’t interested in. I want time with the girls and time with the boys and time to be with just you. Yes, yes… I need that alone time too. I don’t know if I want to sleep with other people. I don’t know if I am ok with you sleeping with other people. I love group sex and building on the sexual energy of those around me, yet I am intensely private about my sex. I will ask to bring people into our lives and I will be terrified if you do the same. I am very confident that you want to fuck me and I am scared to death that you won’t actually want to love me. Monogamy is not celibacy; I am ok with having just one partner but you had better put out. And I don’t want to be the only one to ask. I really need to be pursued. And if I am too tired to have sex before we go to sleep I will be really happy if you wake me up in the middle of the night pushing into my body. I want to ask you permission for permission to orgasm and I want you to say yes because you love seeing me come. I want you to say no because just because you have the right to.
I want you to be honest with me about my flaws but I don’t want you to put me down. I want you to tell me when I hurt your feelings because I am sure that I will do it out of clumsiness. I want you to try not to hurt me and I don’t want you to walk on egg shells—just tell me what you think. If you have something terribly snarky to say, intimate that you will hold back until I egg you on. Because I will. Because I really want to hear it. I want you to tease me and I want to tell you that you aren’t allowed to tease me. I want you to be able to tell me what is wrong with me as you tell me that you love me so much it hurts. No one is perfect. I want you to volunteer information about yourself and ask me questions about myself.
I want you to dance. I am afraid to try to help teach you because I think you are so perfect and wonderful that I get impatient when you take the normal amount of reminding. It is hard seeing that you don’t actually already know everything. I know that I need to understand this, but it is a difficult one for me.
I will write you long, rambly, semi-coherent emails telling you why you shouldn’t love me because I am terrified that I am going to love you and you will leave me. I am going to push you away so hard that you will wonder if I want you at all. I’m doing it because I want you more than I want to continue breathing. I want to show you all the love and tenderness inside me and I am afraid that if I do I will seem clingy or obnoxious and you won’t like it as much as you said you would. I want to kiss you until I completely loose my senses and have it turn into slow, gentle lovemaking. I want you to slam me against a wall and pull my skirt up and start fucking me without asking me if I am in the mood. I never want you to ask me if I want to go down on you; I want you to tell me what you want. If you want it, I probably want to do it. I… I want you. And I want to wait. Because I feel so much, so strong, so overwhelming and I don’t want to leap into something and screw up what could be. I’m so afraid that I will wait and it will disintegrate because I have pushed it away.
Are you sure you want to do this?
goodness girl…
you’re so very cool.
*snuggles from the bottom of my heart*
Wow…this is very impressive. I wish to honor your feelings and your ability to communicate them.
while you may be the only person with the guts to write this, you are, by no means, the only one who feels this way.
I’m not sure it is about guts.
I want to play in public and I don’t want to be watched.
Nah. You want to cutely pretend not to like being watched. It’s not the same thing 😛
This is all really good stuff for him to know about you. This is all even better stuff for you to know about yourself. Well done.
I will ask to bring people into our lives and I will be terrified if you do the same.
And I massively respect the honesty that it took to write this. But then, I would.
No, I actually frequently don’t want to be watched. I get very uncomfortable. Sometimes I want to be cute and preen, but that isn’t what it usually is about. You haven’t spent much time playing with me in public honey.
*hug*
Also: save a copy of this for future lovers. Consider titling it “Users Guide, volume 2: the emotional bits”. 😛
*grin* Good idea
I want you to dance. I am afraid to try to help teach you because I think you are so perfect and wonderful that I get impatient when you take the normal amount of reminding. It is hard seeing that you don’t actually already know everything.
Oh, well said! (So’s the rest of it; that part just spoke to me more.)
This is, just so it’s been said, one of those things that guys are absolutely convinced women think, and women tend to strongly deny thinking.
I wouldn’t go so far as to say, “for the love of God, don’t say this in front of him”, but *do* bear in mind that this is a traditional point of insecurity among guys who don’t currently dance.
I’m not going to go further on this topic because there’s no way I can (or would want to) pretend to be unbiased.
Oh, I had no intention of using dancing as anything but a metaphor. And it has nothing to do with whether the person is good or bad or slow or fast at the thing and everything to do with it being hard to teach people you think highly of. I was thinking more “why it’s hard to teach your friends to drive stick.” Teaching other people things is stressful.
So, while I see where you’re coming from, and I wish I’d made it clear that I was thinking of other situations, I think your experiences led you to jump to taking it personally.
I wasn’t so much taking it personally (though it does apply to me with dancing specifically, for the record) as suggesting that with the original suggested activity, that *is* a common insecurity among guys.
Yeah, that part really spoke to me, too. When I love someone so much, I want to be able to look up to them. I want to feel like they are better than me in some way. Teaching is hard.
This was the best thing ever. It’s so much honest good “here’s me, I’m a complicated human, this is how it is.” And there’s so much good stuff to love.
*I really like you…
and in some other universe…*I would try to date you…*what an intense ride it would be…*
I needed to see that, just now. Someone understands, even if I am beating my head against a wall trying to explain it for myself sometimes. ::sigh::