He’s a man eater, makes him work hard makes him sweat hard…

Make him fall real hard in love. Yes, I’m a man eater. When I talk, I talk with passion. And when I move I move with passion. Overall, I’m a terribly sensual person. Hence why I call myself a neo-hippie modern romantic. I’m in love with life itself, and everyone I meet.

And when she walks, she walks with passion
when she talks, she talks like she can handle it
when she asks for something, boy, she means it
even if you never ever seen it

The problem, however, is men. I’m a tease. A man eater. And I love to please. Hence also, pity sex. After I tease them and lead them on, I have a crisis of conscience and make a good faith effort on my part to fulfill the intimacy I implicitly promised.

Pity sex can lead to incredibly complicated and compromising situations.

The Friendly Ghost Guy. Hey Gurl Hey Guy. Cold Teddie Guy. Crack is Whack Guy.

you doing anything to keep her by your side
because she said she love you, love you long time!

The fact I sometimes indulge in giving pity sex leads to compromising situations and emotions.

Lonely Guy. Cold Teddie Guy. Pomme de Musique Guy. Warm Huggable Teddie Guy.

And when I don’t give pity sex but give in to actual emotion and intimacy, leads leads to fear and distance on his part.

Army Reserve Guy. Mad Dasher Guy.

Having that many complications in only the past two years, I don’t know what to think. Thus, I’m now two months deep into celibacy; swearing off guys and sex until I get my emotions straightened out and tackle the challenge of becoming published. However, I know my feelings for The Moon never change, and have been a constant for the past year. The only problem is the incredible distance. And the fear that maybe we’re not right for each other. When faced with fear, as I often am, I now try my best to face it head on. And for now, I suspend disbelief and maintain the status quo. I’ve something amazing, and I don’t want to jeopardize that. But, I require closeness and talking. Lots and lots of talking. Just not on the phone. I still loathe phones.

Move your body around like a nympho
Everybody get your necks to crack around

My plan for this spring worked so well I never thought I would have done a complete reversal. My plan being to meet as many new people as possible, primarily to get over the ex. And also to have a warm bed in which to sleep this fall. So, while I sowed seeds in the spring, I’m now faced with a bountiful harvest o’ plenty. My cup runneth over. It spillith.

You know how on those reality shows where the girl/guy has to choose one guy/girl by the end. That’s about how I feel at this point. It’s hard. It’s very hard. I’m half afraid to meet anyone new, even in pursuit of friendship, because I know my emotions will eventually become conflicted. Hunting season is officially closing, but I don’t know which deer to shoot.

I want to see you all on your knees, knees
You either want to be with me, or be me!

Am I afraid of commitment? Am I indecisive? Or am I still afraid of letting someone down and feel the only way to make them feel better is through pity sex. Mind you, this would be amazing, my-teeth-are-tingling coitus. But it wouldn’t be honest.

She’s a Maneater, make you work hard
Make you spend hard
Make you want all of her love

As a self admitted tease trying not to tease so hard because I can’t have a plate of man for every meal, I’m trying not to make them work hard and sweat hard and make them fall real hard in love. I don’t know what is this strange, entrancing voodoo that I do, but I know that since I’ve gone into seclusion and detox, I have no new problems to deal with. I only have ghosts from haunted past knocking and making me wonder what dreams may come.

She’s a maneater

The best advice I always new but someone told me so eloquently at a store yesterday “The best thing to do sometimes when you don’t know what to do is to sit still.” Maintain status quo. Besides, I’m tired after running quite far in the past two years. So I will continue with this state of celibacy until I’ve dealt with the spirits from my loveless, man-eating past. In a rational, non emotionally confusing sans coitus manner. Le sigh.

make you buy cars
make you cut cards
Wish you never ever met her at all!

Signed,

Patrique

P.S – Or, you know I could just say “So What?” I’m still a rock star. I’ve got my rock moves. Towanda! Now, to tease or not to tease…