Women and Me

I am obsessed with women. I really am. Every thought seems to steer towards the direction of those of the female persuasion--and during football season no less! This is a most disturbing trend that must be squashed.

For most of my life I have had periods of intense interest in women followed by periods of indifference. Football in particular has always been an excellent distraction for me. Once the season began most of my thoughts were concerned with questions relating to the Wolverines and Lions. Hardly a thought was dedicated to the fairer sex.

But now football is no longer as effective of a distraction as it once was. The season is a month old and I spend much of my time contemplating women. Argh! I hate it!

How odd you might think I am from reading this. After all, what heterosexual male does not think about women? What heterosexual man does NOT want to think about women?

It's not that I am a misogynist, its that I don't understand women.I don't know how they think, their behavior I find to be odd, and most importantly, I don't know how to interact with the ones I am attracted to. That unsettles me.(I interact just fine with women in general, its the ones that I like that I have problems with.)

Women are strange beings to me. They are as big of a mystery to me as the bottom of the ocean is to scientists. Perplexing these creatures are to me.

I have never had a women of my own. No mother, no girlfriend, no close friend who happened to be a girl, I have not had one close relationship with a woman. My entire life has been influenced and shaped by my relationships with men--though my mother did indirectly shape my life by her absence from it. Men are those who reared and loved men. It is men who are my friends. It is men who I know and trust.

A therapist of mine once told me that I was "too male".I was too much of a guy. My interests were too narrow. I suppose to an extent that is true. I do enjoy football, war movies, reading about war, politics...interests one normally associates with males.

But the therapist--a woman--only read a portion of me. I like romantic movies if they are of quality and the same for love songs. Dance appeals to me. I am inclined to be physically affectionate--but I never have a chance to be so. There is so much more to me than what people see from the outside.

I am a passionate man who has a burning desire to be passionate about a lady.I am a romantic who yearns to share his feelings with a woman. A man who craves to weave his body with hers to form a tapestry of love.

I want to stare lovingly into her brown eyes, my hands gently brushing her silky black hair away from her so I may enjoy all the fine contours of her magnificent countenance, kissing sweetly those pouty pink lips. I want to hold her in my arms, her heart beating in rhythm with mine, in an loving embrace for the rest of our days.

As you can see from the above, my mind is in heat. The blast furnace called love is heating my imagination to a boiling point. I need someone to share my words, thoughts, and heart with.

So as you can see, there is a different side to me that is begging desperately to be freed from the shackles that I have placed upon it.The question--or questions--are will I do so? Will I have a chance to do so?

The first is dependent on me. I simply have to rid myself of the "mommy issue" for once and for all. The second question only the future knows and it is not wont to share. Alas, I am stuck in this purgatory .