****The more I tried to edit this post, the more I realized that it is just an ugly state of mind that I was in, and that it couldn't be polished to look like anything other than what it was. I thought of deleting it altogether, like I never thought these things, but I'm too stubborn or narcissistic or I don't know what, so I am leaving it. It's not my best version of me, but since that guy doesn't exist, this guy has been occupying my space for a little while. It's not as over-the-top as some stuff I said in anger back in the 90s, but it reeks of something foul. So, go ahead and judge me, I have.****
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"What to do when your new #SoloPolyFray friend, who is a big ol' slut, tells you that you don't even qualify for pity sex?"
Cry? Be flattered? Be upset? Rage against the seeming unfairness of it all?
I suppose there's nothing that actually can be done. Just relax into the fact that I'm less appealing than a plate of undercooked chicken livers. The sad part is, we'd become close enough friends that she's the first person I think of to confide in or commiserate with about my sad state of affairs. But I guess I can't do that now either.
This person, I'll call her G__, answered my ad on the nasty ol' hookup site, DoubleList. Not too many women would probably want to admit, in the light of day, to using that site, at least not with their real names. But not G__. She wears the title "slut" like an armband. I found her honesty refreshing, and the frank discussions we were having about the casual nature of her sexual adventures were both educational and--umm, ah--stimulating.
We discussed other things besides sex. We had a pretty nice email chat going for about a week and a half. I was starting to consider her to be a person who I could confide in, and she was very open with me about details of her own personal life.
To be fair, she never actually came out and said, "Yes, Andrew, I want to have sex with you."
She did, however, send racy pictures of herself in revealing outfits, and she shared many stories about the nature of her kinky casual sex life. I came to the (mis)perception that I'd be a candidate for some possible future encounter with her at some point. I mean, she spoke about sex with strangers, even people whose behavior, appearance or attitudes were less than optimal. Why then, not with a person who seemed to connect with her as well as I did?
Well, it has to do with a particular brain-wiring issue that involves her "fraysexual" nature. Here's the quick definition, cut and pasted from the article I linked above, which she sent to me in an email:
"Fraysexual (adjective): a sexual orientation in which a person feels sexual attraction to someone upon first meeting them but that sexual attraction fades over time, particularly as an emotional connection is formed."
I hadn't actually ever met her, so I guess I thought that I could still qualify as a candidate for some kind of brief fling, after which she would lose interest in me sexually, and we could just go back to being what we were before that, which was just platonic friends.
Nope. I guess if there was ever an initial attraction, as in why the fuck would she answer my personal ad on a hookup site, it quickly flew past that stage and landed, customarily, right in the friend-zone, the land of lost attraction.
I'd become "too interesting" of a person on an intellectual level to be considered a possibility for ever qualifying as a random hookup. And emotional hookups are not a part of the repertoire, so that was never on the table. And the sad fact is that I'm shallow enough, and horny enough, to want to hook up with someone like this, even knowing all these things.
Please, I really am that shallow. Objectify me. Use me. Something. Christ. What's a guy got to do to get some cuddles?
And our 2nd "video date" was going so well. Right up until the point where she revealed to me my place in the hierarchy of potential sexual partners: nowhere. I had to admit to her that it didn't feel like such an honor to be in such a special niche as to be singled out for platonic friendship only, when she'd basically have sex with any random person just for the fun of it.
I mean, why not extend that benefit to someone you are friends with? Why not include me, an admittedly lonely, desperate old guy with slim chances of ever running into anyone else as liberated and easygoing about their sexuality?
I guess I'm not arguing a point that can be won. And I'm not making myself look like a nice guy in the process. I've now admitted to being OK with random hookups that have no potential for further emotional connection.
I admit, there would probably have been more, not less of an emotional connection, on my part at least, after any such encounter. I'd probably get hung up or attached, and that would be incompatible with the "stick and move" philosophy of a fray.
I don't want to know about these terms and descriptors anymore. I wish I never did learn of such a seemingly dysfunctional thing as a solo poly fray, especially after being rejected by one.
And why develop a new vocabulary when the old words work just as well? "Fickle" and "tease" feel appropriate in this case, although "selective promiscuity" would be more objectively correct and less tinged with my petty judgements.
I don't like it, but I consider this bridge burned. And it's a bridge I hadn't had the benefit of ever setting foot upon, sour grapes that I've never tasted. But then again, I don't know how sour or sweet they might have been, since they were never within reach. The fact that I am unable to pick from even such apparently low-hanging fruit, has me feeling more disabled than ever.
And the fact that I've chatted up three of four different women in the last week has me feeling a bit grimy and tarnished. I can't sequentially pursue each woman to the final failure point. It would take too long, and I'm too old to play the long game. Or any game. Time is running out. Just look at the counter at the bottom of the page.
But spreading my affections far and wide in all directions via text isn't quite working either. It feels disingenuous. I feel like I'm cheating, and I'm not even in a relationship. Like I should be disclosing to person A that I've indeed been texting with person B, but since it's not panning out, well, here we are, and please don't think I'm not totally into you, even though I'm pursuing other women simultaneously.
Maybe I'm too fucked up to be with someone else, and that is why I figured that casual sex with a slut would be a good option for me. No one gets hurt. Except me, I guess, when I get rejected peremptorily.
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.