The other night, I found myself dancing with hotness. I swear this guy has been sexy forever. In my mind I reminded myself not to do the eyelash batting thing or sneak that copulatory gaze in there. I mean, when you keep friends for 20+ years, the line has pretty much drawn itself. It doesn't matter how hot your old friends get, they are off limits. Besides, there is a whole world of available men out there to have adventures with...ones who won't go back and tell all your mutual friends about all your freaky bedroom antics. I don't care if the guy I'm dating tells his friends about me, as long as they are not my friends too. That's just a mess. I like to keep my life as drama free as possible. It's not so easy when you need to be entertained almost all the time.
So I've been thinking about this hot old friend since seeing him. It's because I'm bored with my current lover. I'm not picturing him naked or imagining places to put his lips or any of that naughtiness (although that doesn't sound so bad). To be honest, that's not how my fantasies go these days. I want more than just a good lay. I've been fortunate enough to have had some great lovers. In fact, I don't really think it's him I'm thinking of in particular, but the excitement of discovering someone new and feeling the beginnings of attraction - the butterflies, the hair standing up on the back of my neck when I know he is staring at me from across the room. I miss the instinctual part of it. I miss feeling my own tingling heat under the intense gaze of a hunter.
My fantasy is being attracted to a kindred spirit. I like to picture myself racing motorcycles against Mr. Perfect Match. We drink and gamble all night in Atlantic City. We go to the opera. We backpack through Yosemite and skinny dip in the moonlight. We challenge each other physically, emotionally and intellectually. We are so well matched that we grow together - instead of that familiar staleness that happens when most people get comfortable.
Really, it doesn't matter how sexy some guy in a bar is. I know that he's just another guy in a bar. I'll be bored with him in a few weeks, and I'll go back to slinking through the streets sniffing around for the next hint of pheromones - making some new unsuspecting egomaniac believe that I am the prey. The chase is still fun, but the resolution is so anticlimactic.
I guess I’ll just have to find my excitement elsewhere. Did I mention that I bought a new pair of roller blades yesterday? I need a new bike too – faster and sleeker with a deeper growl. Then I can get myself close to some more dangerous trouble.
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