Is there something you just wish you did better?
You know something sweetheart, I’m glad you asked that question. As it turns out, there is something I wish I was better at.
I wish I were better at getting and interpreting hints as they’re being dropped.
See, there have been times in my life, when I wasn’t just the handsome, charming and debonair fellow you see before me. There was a time, long ago, when I was down right pretty. I say this with no ego or self aggrandizement, because it never did me a bit of good seeing as no one ever mentioned it to me until it was far, far too late to do anything about it. By the time the phrase “Too pretty for words” came along, I wasn’t anymore. Weight and age had laid upon me and I was no longer the heart wrenching beauty I once was. Sadly, this really was something I didn’t know I had until it was gone.
It seems, as I have been told later, that about 98.7% of all females fell into a maddening, lustful, unrequited, crush that was akin to the gravitational force of a black hole. Only, unlike those massive dead stars, you could escape because I had no idea of the powerful draw I possessed in those days. Evidently, when there were mass faintings, I just assumed that there was some kind of gas, or I didn’t notice them fainting, or I was busy talking to someone, or… something. I have been told that it was happening though, just as I left the room all the girls would collapse and fan themselves and make sighing noises AND THAT’S NOT FAIR!
Why they couldn’t have done it while I was in the room… I don’t know. I was not consulted on this; no one asked my opinion at the time, and if they had I would have suggested changes. Most the females I knew in High School that were candid enough to discuss this were lesbians and didn’t see the attraction because they weren’t into men. When my opinion was asked for later, upon someone revealing that she had carried a massive crush torch for me all through high school, I said that she could have done things differently. Actually, I remember swearing and saying that I never even had an inkling of an insinuation that she wanted me. I remember a string of profanity and vocabulary words spewing forth, because that’s sort of what I do sometimes.
You remember me talking about red socks a while ago? This girl claimed that she had worn the local equivalent of red socks around me for four years just hoping and praying I would notice. Now, we were friendly, but I have to tell you that I NEVER saw the myriad of signals she claims she was throwing my way. By the time she was telling me this, she had hooked up with a nice guy and I was with Syd and the word “Poly” wasn’t even a thing yet and, and, and… nothing. Nothing ever came of that because it was too late to do anything about it. However, that would not be the first time I would be so frustrated.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten no better at seeing hints and signs. The only thing that has changed is that I am now aware that such sings and hints exist. To some extent, this has made things easier, and to some extent this has made me paranoid. It’s laughable to be paranoid about ancient aliens helping the Freemasons to come over here and steal our cheese, because that’s an absurd thing to be concerned about. It is not, however, absurd to be paranoid about missing signals that you know exist and that you know you have a history of missing. See, when you have later been told that a girl talking about how she loves brown eyes and guys with long hair, directly to you – a brown eyed long haired guy, is supposed to be a hint that she’d like you to take her roughly and ravish her under the bleachers, well it makes you feel silly for not having ravished her. It makes you feel particularly silly when you spent three years thinking said girl was the seventh loveliest thing you’d ever seen and had often wondered how she’d look while being ravished under the bleachers. Sadly, I was only informed of this after ravishing, bleachers and long hair had all gone out of style. Also, said girl has since dropped to the fifteenth loveliest thing I’ve ever seen, but that’s more because I have seen so much more and less that her beauty has decreased. Also, I later learned that she was kind of a self centered jack-ass and counted myself as lucky not to get wound around her little finger like many another I knew.
Sorry, where was I? Oh, yes, hints!
Now, I’ve learned a few other things about girls since then, and a few things about grown women as well. One of the things I’ve learned is that sometimes, when a girl says she likes your hair, all she’s saying is that she likes your hair. That’s one of the really hard things to deal with, at least for me. Men are easy, men think you’re pretty and they say “You shure is perty! You got a perty mouth. I bet you could squeal like a piggy.” and then you start to run with knives drawn, ready to kill. Women are more subtle and say things that could mean they’re just making pleasant conversation, or that they’re trying to lure your dumb ass into bed if you weren’t so damn dumb and could be lured into the place you clearly really want to go. AND! Sometimes, they’re trying to sound you out, see if you’d find them slutty for wanting to bang you like a screen door in a windstorm. So, sometimes it’s a come on, sometimes it’s not a come on, and sometimes it could lead to a come on if you answer the unasked question correctly.
Now, you throw polyamory into the mix. You have friends who know where you stand, and where they stand, and yet there are times when you think they’re flirting. But then, you think that they can’t possibly be flirting beyond telling a joke, because as far as you know they aren’t poly. OR ARE THEY? Because while you’re talking to them, and they seem to be flirting, they mention that they’ve thought about living in a group situation and that the idea sort of appeals to them. Then she mentions being bi and thinking your GF is cute and letting the rest sort of hang there. I’m making it sound like those all came in one sentence, which doesn’t do her or me any favors. Of course, by the time I’d worked out what her signals meant, I’d also worked out that there was a stability problem with her.
The other reason I find this frustrating is that in other circumstances, where no sexuality is involved, I can read 99.6% of all people like a large print book. Partly it’s that I’m a good listener, partly it’s that I’ve got enough empathy to understand where a person is coming from, and partly I have a conman’s knack for observing those tiny clues about a person that even they don’t know they’re doing. Probably, a big part of my problem with hints is that I’ve probably got this whole shyness/self-esteem issues going on. Yeah, I have a natural ability to decide that those hints aren’t what I might think they possibly could be. No, it must just be pleasant conversation, she’s just answering my question in a frank and unambiguous way because she feels comfortable with me and I talk in a fairly frank and straight forward manner most the time. Yeah, that’s it, that’s why she told me what she told me in a way that could be considered provocative and alluring, not because she’s trying to tell me that her bedroom is just upstairs and gosh I’ve got nice legs.
So yeah, I wish I was better at hints and clues. While we’re at it, I would also like to no longer be dyslexic and I would enjoy a cure of ADD if you’ve got one handy. I know the question wasn’t asked in a poly poll, but I’ve decided to drop it in here anyway.
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