When Kissing Frogs, How Much ‘Tongue’ Do You Give?

Life has been showing off lately; flexing its muscles and doing its best to prove to me exactly who’s boss! Fuck! Okay, for a number of reasons, this month has been and will continue to be tough; so for now, I’ll let ‘life’ take the lead – but that bitch better enjoy this moment – cause my fine black ass will be back to take my rightful place at the helm soon enough!

But for now, while my life has a driver, how about we just have one of those totally senseless conversations? Let’s address Kim K-West. Hahahaha; just joking. In all seriousness, let’s have a little conversation about dating; because, I would truly like to know your opinions on that subject. You see, part of the reason I’m bringing this up, is because, believe it or not, I have never dated. Truly. Never. Not in the true sense of that word, which supposedly means spending time with multiple prospective partners at once… oh wait – not really “at once” once (that’s too much freak); but you know, at once J

Supposedly to do it right, dating can mean that I get to go out with you and you and you and, if I am really really good at the game, you all may or may not know about each other. Oh, and I get to decide if all or only one or two of you are getting really close with me ;). Seriously… that is what I heard! But see, there is where I get stuck. I am so serially monogamous that the mere thought that successfully dating requires that more than one person touches me – my lips, my ass, my breasts, my hair, my, well… you know, sends me into quite the tailspin! I mean, how the hell am I supposed to learn what makes you feel so good that you can’t think of anyone else but me, if I am busy all over the damned place?! WHY is this something that people find appealing? Please, call me ‘old-fashioned’, but I am proud to admit (so very publicly), that I am a one-partner kinda girl!

But don’t get me wrong, in some sense I do understand the possible appeal. I am a woman that is deathly afraid of boredom; that feeling that sometimes follows closely on the heels after getting to know someone very well brings. So, I do understand that dating multiply can stave off that inevitable “kiss of death”. If you do not spend your time with just one person, you postpone that dreaded feeling. I get it. But see, I pride myself on living a day-to-day reality that leaves little room for monotony; infusing my and my partner’s moments with little zaps of excitement that I trust keeps them wanting more. I recognize the honor it is to have been ‘chosen’; despite my belief that well, they couldn’t really have done any better. Hahahahaha.

Listen in theory, I am going to start dating. Yup… I am going to have a few of you fill my dance card and manipulatively pit each of you against the other. I am going to (innocently) ensure that, oops, you find out that you are not the only one I am seeing – in the hope that that encourages you to (1) treat me better, (2) step up your ‘game’ in the pursuit of me, or even (3) pick me so that that validates my supremacy over all other competitors. Ridiculous! What the hell is all that about?! How the hell does someone truly get to know someone else and accurately determine the possible level of involvement in each other’s lives if they’re constantly jumping from here to there? I mean, doesn’t it take solitary focus to truly learn how to kiss someone? To ascertain what they like and what their limits are? I mean, don’t I need to have a tad touch of tunnel vision to determine your food fancies, your ticklish spots, boxer, briefs or nothing and, well, how to touch, caress and ride you how? Am I wrong here?

Okay, I started this stating I do not know how this works; the ins and outs (get your minds out of that sexy gutter) elude my understanding. So maybe what I am missing is the fact that ‘dating’ only carries all the foreplay and the real naughtiness is reserved for after you’ve picked one. Am I getting this right now? Do the rules of ‘dating’ mandate that one takes this time to only kiss a few frogs, allowing you the space to investigate and interrogate in the pursuit of your very-own-to-keep prince? Oh wait… I think I’ve gotten the hang of this now! ‘Dating’ is the process most skip over in their rush to the bed, the shacking-up and (hopefully) the altar! Ahhhhh.

Too proud of myself here! But of course, if I am still missing some pieces to this life-puzzle, please enlighten me; I am absolutely fascinated and intrigued. See, I now realize that I do in fact indulge in the ‘dating’ process; the only difference is the lack of the presence of multiple options. I validate this by believing that before I even begin that sexy dance that is then the courtship, I have been mentally doing my own silent form of elimination or inclusion. Truly. Before a prospective partner even knows his presence has hit my radar, I have been vetting him for his deservedness to enter the realm that comprises my daughter, family, friends, career and academic realities. Only IF I then determine that what I have peeped thus far warrants further focus, will I then let my interest be known. Then and only then do we begin to dance J

I am truly not passing any judgment here; Lord knows with all the care I implement in focusing, vetting and taking it so damn slow, I still have a list of names that are prefaced by “ex”. And, I know of others that did it on the first date and are still going strong. So, I guess the only thing we can do is what feels best to us, cross our fingers (Lord knows, some of yall aren’t crossing your legs; ha-ha), say our prayers and then hope and believe that this is the time it works out just the way we wish. Because quite frankly, when it comes to this game of love, there is no “one size fits all”; evidenced by the fact that no one – not the most sensuous of ballad singers, the most prolific of writers, or even any philosopher out there, has been able to adequately, sufficiently or accurately come up with a description – much less one that is universal. About the only thing we can all agree on when it comes to ‘love’ is that it’s a feeling that defies, scoffs at and ridicules any attempt at definition.



No more posts.