Tuesday, March 13, 2007

The Hot Tent

Okay, instead of doing dishes I vacuumed the hallways of my apartment building, for a discount of $45 off my rent. (for doing it 3-4 times a month) It ends up being about 9 dollars an hour, which is an okay part time job, it's better than picking up hours on the plane, because the plane takes the piss out of your body.

So I was going to tell you about my Indian Paramour. Well, instead of calling him Ishram I am going to call him Ashram, because Ashram means "hot tent" and I think it is funny to call someone "hot tent" just like it is funny that my nickname, to Morroccans, means "Vagina."

So Ashram didn't call me for 5 days after the laughing in my sleep/missing his flight unneccessarily incident. I figured he blamed me for him missing his flight and decided never to call me again. I examined how I felt, and unfortunately (or fortunately) I felt nothing. I hadn't allowed myself to develop feelings for him, so losing him didn't matter. But then he called me the day before yesterday, the airline lost his bags, so I made plans to see him the night before last.

He quit his prestigious job because they called him "irresponsible" and "not taking the job seriously." In my opinion that is what happened, but as he sees it, he has worked for them for five years, he has never had problems with them, so they were out of line. I can see his perspective to a point, like them saying that was a straw that broke the camel's back for him, but on the other hand, he missed a flight to a job of interviewing people. It is very unprofessional for a business to reschedule interviews at the last minute.

Since he wouldn't be working in my city anymore I thought I would take the opportunity to see him. I picked him up from his flight from Detroit, and we stopped at an Indian take-out restaurant. We then went to Wal-mart to buy me a shirt, (target was closed- damn) since I had nothing to wear to training the next day to my training.

That night I put on a flattering nightgown, not lingere, but one that showed my curves very nicely. I had my hair and makeup done from earlier in the day, and had earrings on. I looked as good as I ever have with him. He didn't bat an eyelash. Me in this outfit like that was enough to get an "oh" but he didn't notice a thing. I said, already knowing the answer, "do you think I'm pretty?" he said "you want me to pay you a compliment?" I said "no, I'd rather you tell me the truth" and then he said "six", I'm like "you think I'm a six?" and from what I remember he verified it. I said "oh" and went to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror, I was as pretty as I can be at this weight, so I just knew within myself that I am pretty enough to be found attractive by someone, and left the room with that confidence.

We laid out the food and started eating, and he said I seemed sad. I tried to avoid the subject but he persisted. I explained that we would have to be friends because I can't be with someone who doesn't find me attractive. He was very upset. He said what other people think shouldn't matter, and I disagreed, saying it matters if the person is a potential boyfriend. For a few minutes we ate silently.

After dinner he was all over me, begging me to not be mad at him (to which I said, "I'm not mad, I'm sad") so he said "please dont be sad at me" and kept pulling at me and paying attention to me the way a man who is attracted to you should, but at that point my heart was completely shut down. I explained I was stressed about training the next day, and wouldn't feel relaxed until I had gotten ready for bed, and eventually I got away from him. Afterward we kissed awhile, I felt nothing, and I finally went down on him so he would stop kissing me, and didn't even enjoy it, I usually do.

The sad thing is I do sort of like him, but not as much as I liked Charles, and I can already see the problems we would have in the future, so there is no use going on. And my heart is so completely closed off. I can't even enjoy it in the present tense, even though I am a little bit.

I actually could just enjoy talking to him and hanging out with him, except I might hurt him. He has only had one girlfriend before, and he is pretty old fashioned, even if he is modern for his culture and religion. The sad thing is, it is pretty appealing to imagine a future with a man with money who wants a stay at home parent for a partner.

Since I have stopped believing in love, what is the next best thing to strive for, why security of course. If Indians and Pakistanis get married without being in love, why cant I? If I were raised in an Indian culture I would have found a good deal with him, we have long conversations (or debates) and he is very good looking, and has money that he is willing to spend on me (I have spent more on gas than he has spent on me, and I have only allowed him to pay for food, and the one shirt, which he had to talk me into him paying for, by pointing out how much I have spent on gas- so don't judge me!) I really enjoy him as a companion, so if I had to marry someone I didn't love yet, it would be nice.

So I really need to nip this in the bud. I am letting myself get lost in the comfort of settling, which is weird, if I am going to settle, why not settle with Charles, who I truly loved, and maybe love. I think the answer is Ashram doesn't have the power to hurt me, Charles not only had the power to hurt me, he did hurt me.

I can't believe I am about to say this, before I was just stating my feelings, without taking them seriously, but really, if love only works half the time, then what else should we strive for but the best possible living circumstances? I could have my kids, be able to provide for them, and...aw fuck. I don't believe that shit. Just look at my conservative Catholic friend, who married because she was supposed to, because he was a Catholic too. She is miserable, and I would be miserable. There has to be true love there. I would be happier with a man I loved, not able to afford kids, than I would with a man I didn't love, and the ability to afford kids.

You know, that is what this is all about, my fucking biological clock. I have 6, no make that 5 years until complications would be likely. My body is controlling my rational mind. My desire for happiness is being pushed aside for my desire to propogate the species. That is some crazy shit. I never thought I would be the one this would happen to. But it gets worse every year, especially since I have become healthy enough that I am convinced (if I could do it without an additional full time job) that I would do a good job of it.

And it is more then my body, it's my culture. Everyone is settling down and getting houses and babies. I am ready to settle down. I am ready to put my energy into my future. But heaven knows I am only going to have a happy life with a man who respects me as a 100% equal partner. You know what? I need to quit hoping for kids, I really do. If it happens, good for me, but lets be honest...I am behind, a late bloomer. I spent my adolecence worried about my dad and wasn't able to relax and focus on my education and develop normally. What I am, a person with a job and health insurance is more than many kids from my background have.

But god, I dont want to be 40 and alone. My looks are already failing me, by then I wont have any looks left. I want what everyone else seems to have but lets face it, I'm not like everyone else. I think my therapist might tell me that my thinking right now is flawed, and I suppose it is. But geez, I don't want to be alone anymore. Charles cured me of that, now I need to be cured of the need to have someone.

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