Perusing through the memes on ajooja's page the other day made me think about me. Men and me.
One of the memes was "20 years, One Lie." Reading through his, I was collating in my mind. What could I say about me at age 5? Age 6? Age 7? The most interesting thing I can think of about me at 7 was that I had my first crush on a boy. Rather, I shared a first crush with a boy--it was a mutual attraction, but at 7, what are ya gonna do about it?
I liked 'men' very early. I love men. Always have. Sad how watching my nearly 20 year old daughter stumble her way through one 'relationship-lite' and one serious-but-with-an-unworthy-weasel relationship has led me to distrust most men.
But I have swerved.
Back to that first crush. It was a boy named Dean. Dean something. I can't remember his last name now. Dean was tall, dark, handsome and brooding. You know--in that missing teeth, gawky, 2nd grader kind of tall, dark and handsomely brooding sort of way.
Dean. He was also the cutest boy in the class. Being among the top 3 cute girls, I had the power, at age 7, to reign in pretty much any little boy I felt like. Learned that early, didn't I? What a shock junior high was! In the big pond with all those other pretty girls from the north end of our county, I found that I was only second tier. Still, I was able to snag top tier guys. Almost all of them fitting the handsomely brooding category. Rarely a sunny, laid back one. With the notable exception of Colin, who I still have the fondest feelings for.
Rummaging around in my Dean crush, there was a sudden flash in my mind. It hit me hard--like being struck by lightning on a clear day--that Dean was exactly the same kind of man my Young Guy is. Tall, dark, handsome and brooding. No wonder I felt that instant connection with Young Guy.
In high school Dean created some trouble with the law, ran away from home, eventually dropped out. Wicked intelligent Young Guy didn't drop out, nor did he have any run-ins with the law (none that he has told me about) but he does have a troubled background.
So what is it with the dark, brooding guys that pulls me in? Am I attracted to the potential for drama? Does the shy, country mouse in me secretly crave something a little edgier? Or is there some tie to my need to nurture? I don't have an answer for that.
I don't have an ending to this post. No destination in mind. Except maybe to say that though I love those dark, vulnerable men, I do not regret having married a sunny, laid back guy. He's worth his weight in gold. Seriously. And he loves me--always has--with a warm passion. Does 'warm passion' make sense to anyone else? Doesn't matter--it works for me.