What Am I Waiting On...

I was perusing Youtube last night and came across this sensual, smooth and sexy video from Marlon Palmer and a very gorgeous Amber Rose looking woman. It got me to wondering, what it was I am really waiting on with this whole sex thing?

I'm a virgin. I'm not sure if you've picked up on that or not, but yep. I think the misconception about me is that I either represent all virgins (not the case) or I fall into the stereotype of the "virgin friend" (certainly not the case). I find myself the recipient of a lot of late night calls from friends asking for advice on love, life, and yep, sex. I know a lot. I haven't done anything, but I tend to know little things that make the big moment a great experience for others. Small things like candle light (some girls are too self-conscious for full light but love the thrill of being seen), a playlist of long jazz tracks (so not only are there no lyrics to get tangled up in, the risk of "Can't Nobody Love You Like Jesus" popping up is very slim), or even simple things like massages with warm oil (Sweet almond <3) are suggestions I've made to my girls (and yes, even my boys).

One of the boys broached the subject of the type of lover I go for as he's never heard me make mention of my own sex life. I had to break it to him gently that A) I don't have a sex life and B) I hadn't really given much thought to it as I'm waiting on a certain someone or something.

But that video up there? It sums up everything I'm waiting on. There's a slow sensuality to it. A playful seriousness. A little spice/excitement/voyeurism with the camera. There's respect (he's not rushing it), and there's equal admiration as both of them just take their time to enjoy each other. Not to say it doesn't get hot, but whereas I feel most people think a bomb is what needs to go down, I think a smoldering fire is the way to get things done. Plus that song? Geez... it's perfect. It has a classic R&B/Soul feel, it's not overly sexual a la "You Remind Me Of My Jeep" (nor as crass and unintentionally hilarious). It kind of promotes the same smoldering sexy that I go for.

So to answer the question, what I'm waiting on is someone who understands the nuances of my sensuality. Someone who'll appreciate my slowness and not mistake it for stalling but understand it as a fascination or admiration of their form. Someone patient and knowledgeable, one who doesn't mind teaching and being taught. I'm waiting on a kind heart, someone who doesn't rush and wants to get to know me as a person first. Someone smart enough to know the traditional game of seduction, but still throw in new age game in there. I'm waiting for a counterpart, someone worth my effort who'll put in equal work. Someone serious, but not enough to not have some fun with.

I'm waiting on me, too. Waiting to become comfortable enough with my scars, physical and otherwise, to truly let someone in enough to trust them with my body. I have kind of a teenage boy's fear of getting naked and someone either pointing and laughing or becoming completely disgusted. I know the likelihood of that happening is slim, but because I'm not yet fully comfortable I can't really rule that out. I'm waiting on a relationship with someone, not just a casual "nice shoes...wanna have sex?" sort of fling; I'm waiting on hand holding, cuddling, and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. I'm waiting on a person willing to know me, not just know my body.

In short, I'm waiting on the right person and the right time. At 21 apparently that's refreshing. Not sure if it'll be the same if I reach 45 this way, but... Whereas before I didn't think there was hope for me, in that way, I'm not convinced that I'm up to the challenge. It's just about finding that guy who's right up to it with me and willing to put in the work.

Musing: Idealism

I'm inspired by someone I've never met. The idea of the person appeals to me, not gonna lie, but I'm having a bit of a conundrum with the connotations of such. I’m a person who enjoys getting to know people and what makes them work intimately, not just their surface. Does admiring the idea of a person, appreciating their qualities when not really knowing who they are, negate whatever feelings you may have? 

The dude in the previous video? His name's Laith. I think he's super dope, in the abstract of course. I found out he's an artist and his work is really impressive. Plus, he's kind of gorgeous - like Mississippi God Damn gorgeous. The guy seems smart and interesting and...I'm a bit infatuated, can’t even fake that.

And there's the rub; my infatuation doesn't lead to love as it used to when I was younger. I’m able to recognize when I’m getting caught up in the idea over a person over their substance and take a step back. I learned that to love someone you have to know them, and sometimes knowing them isn’t really idealic. They burp, fart, and scratch themselves just like you do – they’re actual people, not perfect caricatures of your desires. I don't know the guy, but I greatly appreciate what he does (I can't draw or paint to save my life) and respect the path he's chosen to travel in this big bad world; he’s got a dopeness about him that I envy a little. So when W posed me with the proposition of writing a love poem, as I haven't written one in at least a year, for this dope dude, I kind of froze.

I feel weird about it. Could I? Definitely; my infatuation leads to dreams running wild  of road trips under blue skies and cruising listening to some classic M.J and Motown tunes. But my love poems are deeply personal and real. They’re marred with my personal perceptions of actual people who I've touched, seen, maybe even held hands with. Writing for this person who represents an idea, albeit a very awesome one, seems foreign to me. Foreign and a little fraudulent. 

I'd feel better about it if I knew the guy and could be like, 'Yo, I like what you do, here's a poem." The fact remains that I don't and even if I did, I wouldn't know exactly what to say. I'd look at him and look at me and think “Tes, who the hell are you to even think...?" and get real discouraged; he'd never know it existed, much less read it. 

But...I'm entering this new phase in my life where I do things for me, and if I feel it then why  not? I like a few qualities of the guy that, from what I can tell, are genuine traits; he inspires me to take my art more seriously, to take love and living for myself more seriously, and through the video with Christina, that love doesn't always equal the happily ever after as I'd always thought. I feel like I'm learning from what he's putting out there. So...I'll try it. I might not like it. I may love it so much I post it for the world to see. All I know is, unless I write it, until I write it, I'll never know and denying writing is like denying part of myself.

And I've found that not doing it is not as much fun, not as exciting and not as refreshing as doing it; and I think I’m about ready to just do this instead of talking about it.

We find inspiration in the weirdest of places, don't we?