The allure of the new is a trap for the naive. I’ve been burned too many times by the headlong rush. By the physical emotions. It is why my rule is in place. Why I’ve tied the rule to my word. The rule, of course, is to not have sex until I am in love with the other person. I know how that makes me seem. But rather than puritanical fervor or mistaken idealism, it stems from a place of too much mistaking of physical intimacy for real intimacy. And sometimes I’ll meet someone and wish for a loophole or to break my word. But there isn’t one and me off the leash of honor isn’t good for anyone.
So I don’t do casual or friends with benefits. It really should come as no surprise. Even the erotic story I just finished up, turns out to be between a couple living together and, as should be obvious, very much in love.
So that’s me. An old romantic. Oh, and to all the girls in high school who I tried to ask out through romance, through poetry. I hope you experienced only what you thought. That all men are romantics. Because, in mine, they mostly aren’t. I think the more accurate statement would be that most people aren’t.
Pelgris 