How to End up with the Sexiest Person Alive
On the bunch of keys that open the door to a great relationship, is one shiny silver key that no one likes to talk about.
Attraction.
We talk about it but then it’s quickly lost in that whole, “it’s what’s on the inside that matters” jingle, which by all means is the truth and a great jingle, otherwise, the relationship would be superficial and weird and all you’d have is a pretty picture and nothing else. See what I mean, almost lost my silver key there talking about that jingle again. Back to our gist.
My friend once broke up with a guy because she didn’t find him attractive and I didn't understand why she did that.
“…But he’s a good guy!” I protested, “Why would you do that?” Then one day, as I was thinking about this, I realized that she had a point; a very valid point.
Assuming she married this nice, responsible man- because Ike didn’t wouldn’t stop whining about how great a guy he was (I really didn’t stop)- what would happen? They would play house for about a month or two, have a series of “lie-there-like-a-fish” sexual encounters, then what? She’d keep on living with someone who she had no attraction or particular liking for. Classic case of Marianne in Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility. She would be miserable. She’s glad she didn’t stay with him because now he's with someone who thinks he looks better than a shirtless Channing Tatum on a pole! One sister’s Elma Ford is another sister’s Channing.
One of my guy-friends did the same. He broke up with a girl who he didn’t find attractive. Now she is with someone who thinks she is some form of Gisele-Megan Good-Scarlette Jo' hybrid and she’s about to start planning her wedding.
These two friends of mine were light-years ahead of me in realizing three things; 1. In marriage, there should be a lot of rustling sheets(fact); 2. Physical attraction matters (fact); 3. Ike isn’t the one who has to live with their decisions and lie there like a fish (fact)
Really, there’s nothing wrong with choosing not to be with people you aren’t physically into and vice versa. You are simply making them available to the people who find them irresistible. Someone else would cherish, honor him and give him the best sex of his life *shrug*
Take this as another example: One time, I met a guy who liked me and everything about me except the shape of my head Lol! Can you even believe it? My glorious, wonderful head! That’s the way the world works, preferences, desires, decisions. If he stuck it out with me and my head (assuming I complied), we’d be in a relationship which just involves him staring angrily at my head and kicking himself, while I’d be staring outside a window pining for Ed, who clearly loves my head (He tells me this all the time.)
We know that physical appearance isn’t the primary criteria for choosing a life-partner; of course, this person you have chosen, must have a wonderful, beautiful spirit and heart with which you connect so intimately, that you have frequent fits of increased heart palpitations per minute; but also, this person must test your self-control, if you know what I mean*insert stupid grin*
Choose the right person for you- there’s only ever one “sexiest-person-in-the-world” for each person. Choose your very own sexiest person alive and don't settle for less!
I would love to read your thoughts on this. Do you agree with the decision to let go? Does physical attraction matter to you? Do you like the shape of my head? (Trick question)
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Foregone
Fiction
It is abominable, that which I do.
But I hurry to it anyway.
I follow the stream by the white light of the moon, stilling myself at every sound of crunching leaves or rustling bushes. I have wrapped myself in the darkest Ankara, on top of it, is my father’s hunting tunic, darker than night. I have smeared his tobacco and spice behind my ears to ward off any strangers or their dogs.
A traveling stranger is less interesting if she smells of tobacco and roots, than of hibiscus and lemons.
In my hand, is my shepherd’s crook. It whacks and chokes, whether it be sheep or person.
This is no man's land, distant from mother's watchful eye. Any assailant would be out of range of father’s arrow.
Now well into the forest, I hear the faint roar of the waters and my heart races. Quickly, I begin to climb the hill.
It is dark but I know where to place my feet, where to grip and brace, where to heave and lift. The darkness amplifies the thunder of the rushing waterfall of Arè. It surrounds, it terrifies. It is enough to fail a heart.
I remove my sandals and wade into the river, she welcomes me and draws me in along the current. I hold unto familiar stones, slippery and some tufty with growth, my feet find ground on the sandy bed. I feel for the rocks and climb out into a cave.
At last.
He is there waiting.
He rises to his feet. My heart thumps, my belly flutters.
Tórę..