Valentine's day will be upon us soon, like a scourge, a Hallmark-sponsored virus, a legion of red, chocolatey hearts which if really shaped like hearts would more closely resemble big red blobby fist looking things with blueish veins--not exactly romantic, I know, but accurate. . .
. . . which brings me to the point of men and women.
Let's start with an obvious one:
Falling in love.
For Men, love is a destination. Once we're there, we know we're there, we're usually fairly pleased about having found our way there without having had to pull over and ask for directions or, God forbid, rely on a map. Either would mean we didn't know where we were going, and we ALWAYS know where we're going, especially when we don't.
For Women, however, it's an exciting past time, like free-falling from a plane. It's thrilling, rewarding, and they want to do it over and over and over (picture the Energizer bunny here), even if it's with the same guy.
For your guy, love is a house. You've both made it there. He doesn't feel the need to follow you around from room to room, reminding you that you're both in the house. Every room: "We're in the house, baby!" Jumping out from behind doors: "We're STILL in the house, baby!" Admit it, you'd want to smack him after 10 minutes of this.
For your girl, she wants you to jump out of the plane with her again. Yes, you just did it yesterday, but that was yesterday. Yesterday you proved you were willing to give it all up for her. Yesterday your grand romantic gesture was recorded for posterity, but that was yesterday. Are you STILL willing to give it all up for her, put her first, make her the number one star that leads your ship on the ocean (and over the edge of the Earth)? You can't just fall in love with her once. She gets no satisfaction, no ongoing thrill from that. There's no drama. She wants you to fall in love with her all over again every day, at least until she's menstruating. Then you just have to prove you're willing to put up with all of the crazy ass things she says, after which you may be rewarded, but only if you never ever bring up all the crazy ass things she said.
Guys, for the most part, want one thing, and that is a naked woman laying on our bed, waiting for us to arrive home. Naked and dry and soft and very very ready.
Oh, we want the other stuff, too, but it doesn't really occur to us that we might need it until we can see the hand of death looming in the distance. Then, and only then, do we really start to think, "Who will really be willing to put with me when I'm an old fart?" and "Who's going to be waiting to tell me that we'll face it together when I get dick cancer, butt cancer, back hair cancer or whatever?" and "Who's going to still let me jostle their fleshy bits and put my cold feet against the back of her warm legs when the old willy isn't quite as ready to salute the magnificence of the female nipple as it used to be?"
It's not just about facing death. That's just the first time it really occurs to us that we might actually need all that love stuff, beyond getting wet and sweaty under the sheets. Plus, at some point our testosterone levels start to plummet, but that's still not the main reason. I'm not by any means suggesting you wait until after he's had his first colonoscopy to hint that he might want to marry you, but it is a viable and frequently over looked strategy, and you get an amazing number of credits once you've driven him there and back (keep a window open on the way home, just a tip from me to you).
I was out of high school before I realized how much women liked to fuck. You could've stuck a live cobra down my pants. That was the extend of my shock. Not that high school girls didn't seem to like sex, but they seemed to attach so much baggage to it, reputation, possible pregnancy, parents finding out, etc. Now, in my forties, I'm surprised at how much difficulty women have with the emotional side of things. In fact, sex for women my age seems surprisingly easy. They're good at it. They want it. They're willing to admit it. Life's short. They don't want to wait forever to find out if you're worth it (physically anyway). But the baggage is all emotional at that point.
It's nice to date women that have had their bad boy flings and now want someone they can trust and that is fairly decent (though a little bad boy still goes a long way). Unfortunately, the bad boys have fucked them over so much that they're still walking around with a bad taste in their mouth. And occasionally the insecurities have reached critical mass. I've dated a woman who loved sex, but who refused to have an orgasm with anyone who wasn't "the one". I wasn't. I've dated a woman who was so hot and who smelled so good, she was simply completely irresistible to me, and even though I could see the fuse being lit, I still lived in hope it wouldn't blow up. It did, but what a ride. I dated a woman who wanted a purely physical relationship, until she got it and then realized she needed more.
And after a life time of women, some fucked up, some not so fucked up, some hot, some hot only to me, I'm still hungry for more.
I think I'll buy a large lump of chocolate shaped like a blobby fist.
Aarron Diaz Hoal