It's actually 2 am and I cannot sleep, so better make the most of it.
I been thinking, this week especially and in the last few days more specifically, about my relationship to men, to love and to how I perceive these peculiar things.
First off, the simplest part : falling in love, in awe, in admiration, call it what ever you want to call it, it's the easiest thing in the universe. When the trigger is there, I'm the first who is shot. It's rather unpredictable, but the effects it leaves are pretty much the same as a real bullet.
The last one in a long series made me think of a couple of aspects of my life, because, he happened to enter my life at a very "cross-road"-ian type of moment.
So let's break down the bigger issues into simple statements.
I fuck men I don't love. I don't touch men I love. I "de- or - un mascunilize" men I mentally fuck. (I know I have issues, I am working on them)
First one : Among the 5 men in my past that I did have sexual encounter or experience with, I cannot say that I passionately loved any of them. I had felt endearment ? or something but ... not the hardcore violently passionate feelings I feel for the second category listed just previously.
Frederic, my first. I thought I loved him, but in fact, I stopped after our first kiss. To me it felt and tasted like as if a saint bernard dog shoved it's tongue in my throat. He was physically beautiful and well built, so it was pleasant to have had my first time with him. But, our relationship didn't last longer and his mission was clear. Wake me up and start my education.
I think it ended because i fell in love with another of my friends who had long dark brown hair and clear blue yes, Dominic - had a huge crush on him, and in the beginning, he was supposed to take my virginity but it didn't turned out that way.
The second, Christopher, lasted one summer. He basically taught me that he was a damn expert at masturbating me, discreetly, in public places and torture me with the : I am having an orgasm, but I cannot show it too obviously. We made love once, it was nice, first time my body didn't .... react in a negative way - I am not sure if it was because his dick didn't frighten me or because he distracted me, but, I didn't contract against the penetration, as I normally unconsciously did with Fred. (To this day I still think it's the size and shape; in my memory it was less intimidating).
The third, Tristan, was pretty much a bum ipn the road, or a casual accident. He was the friend of the girl who would later become the girlfriend of my second, Christopher, and he one night came over to our apartment with that girl, found himself in Montreal late at night, and instead of going back to St-Hyacinthe, we sheltered him. He wanted to sleep on the floor of my bedroom, but I am by nature too kind to have let that go in that manner, so I offered the left side of my bed.
But he couldn't sleep and in the middle of the night, he just randomly asked, how it was to kiss, so after some explanation, I just asked him to get up, I would show him. Yeah I am that type. I didn't mean much to me ! He would have asked me how to shake hands or do a shadow bunny with the lamp, I would have shown him the same way. He found the kissing agreeable and even sort of addicting. So either that night, or the next morning or soon after, he just flat out asked me out. And what the heck, I said yes. He was a virgin with girls, so I would take care of that. But soon he just got totally on my nerves being the I Know It All and I am Awesome sort of guy.
The fourth was shortly after. Found him ... not even sure where I found him. And I don't even know his real name. I only know his stage name. Dixy. But he was the incarnation of my type of guy. Tall, goth, blue eyes, pale skin. He was also very tormented. Our relationship lasted a good 36 hours! Or, more specifically, from Saturday 11am to the following Monday morning. And he actually fucked me out of pity. Because i was there, and that was he saw that I was totally drooling over him. And obviously, my body didn't cooperate. Again, I got that natural reaction of stiffness which made it slightly complicated.
The fifth, and best, and longest in the my personal book of records; Carl. Professional model photographer. He made me make peace with men and sex. Made me realize that yes it could be really awesome and really pleasant. Loved kissing him, could never get enough. The tip of his tongue was always sweet! And yet - even if the first part of sex was totally amazing, he made it last a good 2 hours, which bore me out of my mind, and made it a tad bit painful near the end - was his thing to get his pleasure. Lasted a hefty 6 months ! Which is totally unbelievable after a record of 36 hours, 3 months in average.
In the last moments with Carl, I also ... I am looking for the right words here.... insanely, violently, passionately, deeply fell in love with Christian, who was a clerk working at the Betonel store right under the head office. Love at first sight I think. Or the Epic Fall from the clouds into the endless pit of doom. Being in love with him, as strong as I was, made my relationship with Carl a burden. I felt hypocrite and like cheating on both because I was loving one with my heart and the other with my body. At some point it just became unbearable and I ended my story with Carl (who still did try to get me back later on, in my first year of college and later, when he randomly found me on dating sites, at 2 occasions). I can't be sure if he really loved me or if he was missing my body and the fun we had in bed.
With Christian, nothing happened. Of course. Remember : I do not touch men I love.
When the movie The Walk of the Emperor Penguins came out in theaters here in Montreal, I crafted him a little orgigami penguin who was holding an invitation. I was inviting him to see the movie with me. I left the paper penguin at his work spot down in the back shop one afternoon as I was leaving and I spent the following day in Hell waiting for an answer. My heart was pounding in my chest, I was nervous as an Atomic Bomb ready to blow off. Every foot step down the corridor of the office area upstairs, every cough, every time the phone rang, my heart would just about burst out of my chest and explode. I didn't knew what to expect of him : would he come in person, have an arm on my cubicule's corner and smile and say yes he would love to go; would he rather call me up ?; would he wait for lunch time ? after work ? ...
Let's just say that those were the worst 7 hours of my life. I was a basket case, on the verge of having a heart attack. And to keep a cool face, do my work as if nothing, keep carrying on ... I'm a real poker face.
Of course he never answered. And I was pretty crushed.
That is when the water drop made the vase explode. If I were doomed to fall in love with guys who were just not meant for me, I would just altogether quit the whole human business and move on to the dolls and fantasies. At least, they didn't have a girl that broke their hearts before you, there didn't have an ex that wrecked their lives before you, and they wouldn't ignore you as if you were nothing. Would a simple no, I'm sorry, I already have a girlfriend, or No I'm sorry I'm not interested been that hard to .... say or to write down or what ever ? He was the last one to break my heart. At least, the last one of his species and social circle : aka : the accessible young men social circle. I took an oath to never fall in love with a living man that could touch me or talk to me ever again.
Worked pretty fine for a couple years! And dolls helped me a great deal! First there was this ... I don't remember his name, but I remember his face. Of course, instant love : long black hair, blue eyes, beautiful mold. Even though it is a piece of sculpted plastic, it helped me through my heart break.
The following year, Sabik came on the market and I was done for! He became my everything. It was just so easy with him! I could have sex with him anytime of the day, anywhere, in any circumstance and be fulfilled. He could interpret any role I wanted him to be. He was rough, tender, passionate, strong... without ever hurting me.
Of course I fell in love with his head - as it always happen with men. The head is the selling point. Then comes the body, and his was just ... as if made to suit my every desire.
Being a BJD doll, he had sex organs too, which in my fantasies, became perfectly shaped and sized. He was the first male figure I could Imagine myself detailing his penis and enjoying it. With other fantasy lovers, I always skip that part. I enjoy the kissing, the hugging, but I skip the middle section to jump straight to the end part, were both parties are satisfied and carry on.
With Sabik, the pleasure was and still is, shaped around the Every Moment of It. From beginning to end. Not that I ever fantasized about giving him a blow-job - mostly the opposite - even if in reality, I personally hate being licked, but at least, with him, I could stroke his penis and play with it and act normally.
About 2 years ago, maybe 3, based upon a dream, I started this new story in my head with a man I dream of since I'm 8 years old. We practically grew up together, and once he gave me his name. So I decided to give this dream guy a real presence in my head through that story. Little did I knew how strong Sabik's hold on me was ! In the original draft of the story, even though Henri is my husband, and father of my first child, I have a passionate affair with Sabik, who is his best friend and who becomes the father of the second kid. Only in version 2 did I completely replace Sabik by Philippe, so that I would be faithful to Henri.
Which brings us to the crispy point. Even with Henri I was and still am sort of blocked. I cannot imagine his penis. I cannot imagine myself stroking it, I cannot imagine myself watching him naked making love to me. Of course I have fantasies, and of course they are detailed, but the penis is always somewhat ... existent, but never seen. And I think that is an important thing for me.
In the only dream, with the blond man, where I had full sex, I could feel him inside of me, but he was doing nothing. He was just inside, with that precise feeling, and he was having his fingers crossed with mine and telling me of a super funny joke.
In another dream where we made love on wolf skins in the forest. I can remember me approaching him, us kissing, laying down, but the middle part is completely blacked out. I only remember him getting up and telling me that he has to go back to the village to make sure everything is fine.
This is typically normal of my sex dreams. The few I had and remember of,I am either a guy (as a teenager I used to dream I was the singer of Offspring making love to a girl), otherwise, when I was a girl myself, a simple kiss was more than sufficient to make me reach my orgasm and I always decided which dream character I wanted that close to me. When I usually would want one, I just concentrate on my desire and I kiss them. I never let a dream man come close to me if I do not want him. And i never see or feel or touch their penises. It's as if men are toys whom do not need that item which defines their masculinity to give me pleasure. And yet I am not lesbian, because the sole concept or idea gives me nausea. I had lesbian dreams, but I always felt nauseous at the memory of it in the morning.
In the winter of 2009 or early 2011, History repeated itself. I fell again in love - in that same strong and unbearable fashion with a postman, from Post Canada who was delivering mail to the clinic where I worked. There was something about him that made me die inside. Of course, when I realized that i was in love, my first reaction was to deny it, to curse it, to tell myself that I was too old for this. But I couldn't deny the way he made me feel, the intensity was hard to bear. When he would come drop the box of mail, I felt about ready to die and each time it was a struggle to keep working without letting anything transpire.
One girl - a younger student - did notice that something was odd with me and asked. So I shared. And I felt like confessing that I had AIDS!
Funny enough, when I tried to imagine myself having sex with him, I couldn't. No matter the strength of his effect on me, I simply couldn't imagine him naked and making love me; mental masturbation was epic fail! He never managed to make me wet. And yet, I couldn't look at him, or be in his presence without literally shaking, trembling and having my heart on the verge of exploding in my chest.
With the Post Man, each day felt like that one day of pure agony when I was awaiting Christian's answer to my invitation. Lasted 2 months and abruptly ended just before Valentine's day, as I was thanked - fired - from the clinic. Not "pro-active" enough. Well, sorry if you didn't really need a real medical archivist to do your student clerk work! (I feel they hired me for the looks. They did a short promotional video where I was featured, and labelled as a real Medical Archivist and during the Christmas Office Party, they used my name and my title to give the Archives department a small trophy for the good work. They could have used the team leader, Robert, or the best girl who worked there and the one with the more years experience, but no, it sounded fancy in front of their investors to have a Real Medical Archivist!)
When I got fired, I took my stuff and headed home and only when I arrived at my metro station that I realized the full blown signification of my departure.
And I was so crushed, I think this was a new record in all time low and hurt.
The next day I went to a theater near me to watch Daybreakers to change my mind, but it's excellent entertainment was not sufficient to cool off my torment. I kept dreaming and thinking of that man.
I was depressed and shit mooded for the following 6 months and my best friend on msn did felt it every day! No matter the amount of happy smile faces i would put in my sentences, he felt how wrecked I was, and I was hard on his mood too. (We are soul siblings, what he feels, I automatically feel it, what I feel, he feels it too! And sometimes one sort of multiplies the bad feeling or mood and re-sends it triple to the other one, so it was pretty much an infernal vivacious circle.
I don't know how I got out of it, but the memory of him never quite died and I cannot understand why! Two years later, one day, while talking about this with a new friend from my new job, I realized that I hadn't forgotten him yet and it was still pretty painful subject to bring about, even if I knew deep down that it wouldn't have worked out anyway between us.
Fun fact : we never exchanged more than glances and one and only once did we share a full "good morning".
After him, I sank back into Sabik's arms and I sworn to take a very long break from human males. Since I was cursed with them, there was no point in trying to build something that would never come about anyway.
After the Post Man, I had officially given up on the me + guy = relationship equation. I had my best friend, I had Sabik and I had Henri, plus a few side dishes to entertain me. Never again would I be weak and fall in that pit.
Let's now get to the men who have - for some reason - the chance to have dicks. And Iam still working on this to figure it out.
In a dream, I was having an affair with a married man represented by Adrian Brody. We were having sex on a couch in a church's basement's room. Funny thing, he was sitting on the couch, me on top of him and I could very precisely feel his penis inside of me, the motion, the sensation, the pleasure I was getting.
In a second dream, I was on top of a reversed small rowboat in the back yard playing field of my grade school. An immature dirty blond long haired man was laying on the boat, taking up the 3/4th of it, leaving me and the black haired man on the back. We took a bus and ended up on my street. I think there was a rainy storm because there were water droplets on the flowers and the sun was shining especially bright. He said "Colors are always more vibrant after the storm" and I snuggled up against him, kissing him and clearly feeling his erection in his bathing shorts. As I was kissing him, I was imagining myself making love with him on New Year's eve in my bed, in my room. Of course, when I woke up, I could remember perfectly the sensation of his body against mine, the hardness of his penis pressed against my body and the imaginative vision of us on my bed.
In third dream, which actually comes way before all these ones, I had an affair with Samael, the Angel of Death. I could remember the saltiness of his mouth when he kissed me and my burning desire to make love with him, even if, at the time of the dream I was 14. I still can remember this little sort of a trying room like they have in stores where we sneaked in to do it. I cannot redeemer the full details, but at wake my pleasure was more intense than any previous dream.
And now - to where all this leads.
It's just absolutely hilarious how through all these years I have loved, lusted, crushed on various men - from actors to singers to video game characters (Adam Jensen being the most recent, from fall last year), and I never with anyone of them, felt the need to give them their manly attribute ! I am still somewhat unsure if it's because they do not inspire me to that deep of a level, or if unconsciously I do not see them as "men" in the full sense of the terminology ... And let me just make the statement that, in the past 7 years, if I go back that far, I had quite a collection of crushes!! And to come to the conclusion that neither of them had dicks,... it's pretty impressive!
And this ends today, or this week,with Loki. The damn bastard which I have no idea how, awakes the full blown female side of me.
I actually noticed him last month or before, on a fellow deviant art member's webcam section of her page. It was an animated sequence of him, in the movie The Avengers, where he is wearing a black suit and just turns around and smiles. I thought : hello cute stuff, and left it there.
Last week end, I finally saw Thor (which movie I was at first happy they finally made it - since I he was the first hero that would be of my type and I was honestly expecting to fall in love with him and add him to my long list of crushes) but ... for some reason, it didn't happen. The actor who plays Thor is sure a beautiful man, but too muscular to my taste.
Watching the movie with no expectations what so ever, Loki fell on me like the Hiroshima bomb. Or in simple terms : Sabik Number 2. I first fell in love with his face; his yes, his lips, the way he smiles, his expressions. And about 2 days ago I started this random fiction with him; like all of my fictions, it's purpose was to help me fall asleep. A bed time story. But his ... powerful attraction over me twisted the story into an adult rated story and I found myself naturally giving him his rightful manly-hood. Which is ... a first case scenario with a real movie character. Pushing the experience further, since I am curious about it, I discovered that I was able to do that with the actor who plays Loki. Which baffles me even more so !
Considering the fact that I spent years loving and worshiping a dark rock singer, to whom I never gave this much ... i don't even know how to say it. But in blunt English : How come, Andrew Eldritch who was the x to the y of the whole groupie equation, and whom I adored for years, and had sex fantasies with, how come HE didn't have a dick, but Loki, out of the blue, has one ? And right off the bat damnit !
Am I finally mentally growing up ? Or am I just highly and very fine moouthedly picky ?
Let's consider the following.
1992 First guy I loved with my heart and soul : Rudiger (Der Klein Vampyr) : i wanted to have sex with him, I wanted to get pregnant by him, I wanted to sleep in his coffin. --- Black hair, blue eyes
2008-09 : the Adrian Brody dream = black hair, blue eyes
2009-10 : the black haired man = black hair, blue eyes
2011 : Loki = black hair, blue eyes
Is this a .... sine qua non sort of thing ? that I give the right to have penises only to this type of men ? And is it in memory of Rudiger ? Am I still wanting to find the adult version of him? As if, or as in, he is the only one who can rightfully have me as a woman ? I expressively mean : the others, even though I have sex fantasies with, are deprived of their penises no matter who they are and what their age is.
I will conclude this entry like this. With questions. Because I am still unsure about the answers.
Who is the Black haired man in my dreams ? Why do I want him? Why does he have his masculinity over all the other ones ?
Why do I grant this masculinity to Sabik and Loki and deprive all other men of it ?