I know what you want more than any man. I have watched privilege, dignity, and beauty confidently walk down and destroy the arrogance of the masculine. I spend my time finding colors, patterns, and arrangements to declare your beauty like the rhythm meets the harmony and melody. They fail to see such wonder - their hearts search for hidden treasures that you only hold.
Men. The fools they are these days: boasting about pretentious accomplishments. They are threatened by your success as if it emasculates their soul. But you are wise and refuse to accept the crass thinking of your ancestors. "Settle, Settle, Settle!" your mother cries; she wants her grandchildren. But I say, do not. A partner is a partner; not a doormat, not a silent lip, not a threatened kitten.
This leaves a difficult challenge for me, I'm afraid. You see, there are so many of you and only one of me. Is it your fault that these others lack a spine? Of course not. Is it your fault that these others lack sagacious dialogue? Of course not. Is it your fault that these others live in a fantasy controlled by a glowing screen? Of course not. And that is why you choose me - you want strong arms around you and eyes that declare it is only you.
I suppose you want some details? That is fair. I do have a long-term lover, I think. We speak on occasion and lie next to each other a few times a year. But, you see, she is as busy as I am and I'm afraid the separate continents fail at blocking our libidos. Obviously we agreed a few years ago to open things up a bit; it was as fair to her as it was to me - we are both egalitarians in the egalitarian age. Now, when I'm not watching beauty walk down a runway, I am embracing beauty - and a variety of beauty it is.
These are my stories. These are my journeys. These are my secrets. Keep these stories, journeys, and secrets for your pleasure and don't whisper a word. If you have further questions, shoot me an email - I might just answer.
© 2009 The Serial Monogamist. All rights reserved.
