(originallly posted on my AFF blog, and I’ve lost 90lbs to now, and haven’t quit smoking. Hey, it’s a process!)
Looking for a woman who knows what she wants…hmm, really?
So ladies, do you know what you want? Seriously? Do you really know? How about the men, do you know what you want? Are you sure? Or do you just think you know what you want?
I expect a fair share of replies to this will be, “Of course I know what I want.” But to me, that’s the easy answer. And easy answers are often wrong, or at least not entirely right. Frankly, I think that most people who have a good relationship, a decent job, and enough money not to fear bill day still don’t know what they really want.
Why would I say this, you’re asking yourself. Sorry to put words in your inner dialogue, but let’s assume I’m right. The reason I say this is the happily married couples divorce after 20 years. People meet someone they wouldn’t consider having a long conversation with and fall in love. Some discover, quite suddenly, that the job they’ve loved no longer suits them and change careers at 45. Men and woman who have been married and/or dating the opposite sex all their lives suddenly realize they’re actually gay (swear, I know one who didn’t really know until late).
We are ever evolving creatures ladies and gentlemen. What we want can change in the blink of an eye, and we can discover easily that what we thought we wanted was just was little more than an assumption.
So why am I thinking on this now? I’ve discovered something interesting today. I am in the middle of an existential overhaul. I haven’t talked much about my normal life on here, but I can’t explain without some details. I stepped on a scale today and found I am now approaching 40lbs lost in just about 3 months. As of next week I go to 13 ciggies a day, and I’m probably going to get crabby about that. Though I expected to start getting crabby this week at 15 a day. Strangely, I’m not yet.
Normally I’m not what you’d call a fitness person. I figure as long as joggers still keel from heart attacks at 35, screw it, I’m having my Mt. Dew. But then the doctor ripped the bottle from my hands and answered the question I’ve been begging for a resolution to for 3 years, what the hell is wrong with me? Why do I have to diet just to maintain my weight, and when I try to lose it not a damn thing happens? And his answer was, “Well that’s because you’re a diabetic, and don’t ask me why the other doctors and tests have missed it for years, I’m not omniscient! Oh, and by the way, since diabetes pretty much doubles your risk of heart disease or stroke, put the cigarettes down and back away slowly.”
So here I am, recognizing less of myself daily. Everything I’ve known about me is changing, at least physically. But while I am happy with the constant improvement, and I admit I feel a lot better than I have in years, on some levels I’m completely freaked out. The definitions of my life are blurring, and it’s making me seriously question what I want to happen next. Hell, today I was even questioning the questions.
So do I know what I want? Right now I’m going to give you the Bethany Sloan answer (if you don’t know who that is, ask). I don’t believe I do, but I’m starting to get a good idea. But if you really insist on me knowing myself so well, you’re better off walking away. My brain rides like it’s on rails most times anyway, so eventually the direction will change again, and sharply. But I’ll tell you something, it’s a hell of a ride.
- How did I get in this nutshell?
- What is sex?
- Passion & Compulsion
- I'm F*cking Seth Rogan!
- My (Not Entirely Biological) Ticking Clock
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