This is my first blog I guess, I figured it would be a good idea. I'd like to think I'll be eloquent and concise but it's not always going to be the case. Which ideally brings me to the topic in hand.
You'd think after, being in three solid relationships with three different vibes of love attached to them with three very different men, I'd have developed some sort of sophisticated and tuned in intuition about relationships.
Now, don't get me wrong, this isn't meant to come off as some feminist rant slash crying into ice-cream 'why won't he love me?!' whaling cry for attention, because, babies, that's not my bag. I happen to be on some half-arsed spiritual quest for enlightment and learning, which happens to be quite difficult to do on 50 hour week shift work, hence the half-arsed nature of it. Let's face it, it's difficult to get your chi flowing through all your chakras in a straight line when your days is a mix of a little french man yelling at you about butter and wine, maryland chicken meals, lucazade fixes, frantic showers, dating too many people you never intended to and don't have the time to see and your boss dragging out a bollocking you should have had over a week ago for a two hour shift you slept through accidentally, with the smarmy barman telling you in creative ways how much better than you he is.
But that's just the way the creme brulee drips down your chin, I'm afraid.
Anyway, I digress (and I will). Relationships.
Yeah, I don't get them. I try, I do. But why on earth does something that is supposed to improve and add to the quality of your life have to be so bloody complicated and confusing (and so cause misery). I look back on my past relationships through gray-tinted glasses of disappointment. The relationships in question might have made me supremely happy, but I can't remember being happy in them without that happiness also being teamed up with a feeling that it came with a great cost.
The resulting ends of my time with those men seem to taint the entirety of the relationship for me and I end up feeling as if I've wasted time, energy, (money), love and food on those morons.
Granted, I have since learnt that a factor of a decent relationship with another person is to first have a good relationship with yourself, something which I've never had and still struggle with now. My body has never been a temple, I've pummelled this thing with drugs, booze, fast food and cigarettes, and have made no real deal of effort to take up much socially recognised exercise.
As a girlfriend, about 20% of my energy and time goes into making the man I'm with feel like a king, but beyond that, who has the fucking time?! Christ, If you're that insecure within our relationship and your masculinity that you need at least 40% more of my worship then go see a counsellor.. or a prostitute, I don't give a fuck, it's the same thing, sort your shit out.
It's not that I'm some sort of insensitive bitch, it's just that the particular men that I have been out with tend to have problems like, 'Should I have a salad or chips as a side order?' and that kind of effeminate indecision and confusion in a man isn't something that makes me think, 'God, I can rely on you to take hold of the wheel should a close relative die or I find a lump in my breast one monday morning'. Truth is, yes, I'm a feminist and a strong ass fucking woman, so in turn I need a strong ass fucking man for the times when I fall off the everest high pedestal they place me on.
The rest of the time, I just want to have fun, I want to love and be loved, I want some respect and consideration (which is obviously reciprocated). I want to be able to turn to the love in my life and be able to have an interesting discussion about anything that comes up and to have passionate debates with that person that occasionally result in a row, followed by the inevitably fabulous make up sex. I want the in-jokes, the toying with each others hands, the playful banter, the playing footsie under the table, the whispered 'I love you's'. Maybe he wants to go hang with the lads for the day and come home drunk at a stupid hour, by all means go and do that honey, have fun. If he wants to glance at other women, I'll join you just to see if your taste in women is still up to scratch and then make reference to a threesome with her to get the cogs in your pants going for a bit. If you wanna go to the stripclub, lets go together, I might even pay for a dance with the girl of your choice and then when we stumble through the front door back at home drunk, I'll tell you to get your ass upstairs cos the dancing isn't over yet, baby! We go and have our days separate from each other and then meet up again at the end of it all and tell each other about the funny and shit things that happened in our day, have a cuddle in front of the TV and maybe make some lazy love before conking out for the day.
This is the basic with which I expect from a relatioship. This, as a package deal.
Of course if he solely wants to go out and get drunk with the lads and come home at a stupid hour, look at other women, watch porn and go to the stripclub without me, and completely ignore me in the time that he's with me, then, well, ba bye! Hope the door doesn't jam itself in your ass hole on the way out.
Personally, I think this is reasonable, take into account that I am (if I say so myself) a funny, cute, pretty, intelligent, strong, sexy, sensual and goofy girl who will happily watch a marathon of Star Wars at your request if I can pick 6 films that you have to sit through as well, this is a good deal. Any man that wants any more from me than the above - and remember that this is all included in the 20% pack - is an ungrateful douche and an unrealistic twit of a man.
And this is where I'll round off by stealing a quote from my lapdancing cousin and pass it off as my own: If you can't handle me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best.
Goodnight boys and girls. x
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