Cock Cutter

So an old friend today told me that he had his newborn son circumcised. I lost my cool and told him that he wilfully mutilated his son's genitals. He told me I was an arrogant prick and that I knew nothing about it. Which seems odd, since I am the owner of a penis as well as the varying results of my parents' bad decisions.

It brought a lot to light for me since I realized he had no intention of having his mind changed about the subject now, or ever. He knew what he wanted to do. His research was to pay lip service to alternatives, but his mind was made up and had already chosen to run with whichever scientific study backed him up. He got very very angry at me for calling him out.

Men who realize they had bits of their cocks cut off for no good reason are usually not happy about it. I hope his son doesn't realize this and resent my friend forever for subjecting him to this and removing his right to choose.

I Bottomed Out On Your Intellect Like I Bottomed Out On Your Cervix

Another fail. Was I getting desperate? It hurt. But really, I've felt worse. This person wasn't really for me. I knew all along that this person wouldn't have been able to support me. And that I would have grown quickly tired of bottoming out all the time.

Got a little ahead of myself for sure. A little non-consensual relationship. Oh how the tables have turned. Probably good to get a dose of my own medicine, the arrogant prick that I am.

Now that this person has ranked me quite low and hurt my feelings I'm not really interested in being her friend. I mean, why should I? I'm not in love with her and there is more than enough uncertainty that I'm not going to lose my mind. In fact, given the way she's acted, it's now her responsibility to get back with me. I was available and very open. If someone decided to put a flame to that they can be responsible for fixing it later. You don't get to burn me then choose the parts you like from the remains. You'll have to ask your way back in.

Maybe the whole concept of partnership isn't for me. Maybe I'm just too introverted, too selfish to ever really be able to share myself with another person.

Isn't that how it plays out? We hold a high standard. Nobody qualifies. So we start looking at people who simply don't bore us, or who can keep us entertained for just a moment longer than some other attractive person. And then we flounder. We switch from searching for what we need, what has been borne out by years of experience and trial and error, for what is available, fraught with disappointment as it may be. And so I've tied myself to people who didn't suit me for years upon years. I probably knew they were restricting my growth and so I was always careful to be as encouraging and supportive of any endeavour undertaken by a partner: I didn't want them to feel as constrained as I did. I've chased this in so many ways, to try and find someone who can manage my extremes at full blast. But it seems clearer and clearer that there is no one like that out there.

People who easily fit in, who have been easily satisfied with the status quo, are quick to ask why I'm never easily sated. Why isn't X/Y/Z just enough? Why can't I just be happy and make do. Well how the fuck can they? Every time I settle for less I get a bit older. To tie myself to something I know doesn't fit and will eventually drive me crazy just doesn't make any sense. If I can sense a poor fit early on then why would I continue down that road? For every measure that your partner doesn't fit, that's another wrinkle, another sigh, another drop of vitality, pride and esteem forever lost; flushed down the toilet. And the more you're aware of this transaction the worse it gets, the faster you get older, greyer and more tired.

I hope I don't get old and regret what a cocky bastard I was. Once youth and choice cease to be, I hope I'm not standing alone, the last dick at the empty party wondering why nobody could measure up. That maybe love is special and should be cherished at every turn. How arrogant. But I'm not a child. Now I'm an arrogant adult. And now it seems like relationships can only be constrictors. I want a relationship that doesn't require me to dumb down, to pretend I'm not curious, interested or unconventional. I want to be free to be the very best, widest ranging person I can be, and so far I can only be this person alone. So maybe I need to trust people to have a much greater capacity than I've ever been witness to.

Show me a relationship that's an empowering liberator and show me a woman that can handle me full strength. Do those and I'll show you a man willing to do anything for love.

Lists

So I went to a party. Met a girl. Got her number and later that week made a date to see her the following weekend. I told a friend that this girl checked most of the items on my partnership checklist. Friend said I was shallow.

But I'm not so sure.

I see a lot of movies. Some I love and some I don't. For a long time I lacked the vocabulary to effectively describe why some worked for me and others didn't. Then I learned about editing, lighting, photography, continuity, phrasing and the varied-but-consistent proclivities of different directors. Suddenly I had a language for explaining my joy or disappointment.

And it's the same with potential partners.

A few years ago I came out of a long relationship. It was a very difficult transition after being together for so many years and sharing so much. As I moped and recovered a friend suggested I make a list of the traits that I was looking for in a potential partner. After all if I had no idea what I liked, didn't like, and found compatible, how could I ever recognize that combination in a person when they appeared?

Of course this speaks nothing of timing. Of how a person who held the key on one day might not if you met them a year later.

So I made a list. And ever since I've been dating people with different combinations of these traits. As a general rule the list is accurate. The women I've dated have confirmed this. The things I think I want are exactly the things I want - and now I know for sure. The trick is in the proportion. Too much of one thing, or not enough of another spoils the recipe.