I have a suspicion.
In fact, I firmly believe that at this moment in time, men and women detest one another to an unprecedented degree. Honestly, I don’t even know how this race of humans has ever managed to propagate. Whether you like it or not, humanity is split into two contradictory halves. The female resents the male as much as he resents the female because both believe that preferentiality is given to one half of humanity at the expense of the other. The prime weapon, inevitably, is sex. And personally, I am just as ready for war as for peace. But because I am not in favour of promoting solitary self-sufficiency in the face of growing female alienation, I sincerely believe that the only honourable and well-intentioned thing that a man can do for a woman is to make a pass at her. It may be pathetic, but at least it’s helpful (- and can you imagine the uproar if men ceased to be so “helpful“?). So, gentlemen, why not just get one with it?
And there’s the paradox.
Those who reduce the complexity of courtship to certain simple formulas will have to concede that between the forces of nature and the desires of men there is also the force which is called female intransigence. My own impression is that men are the victims, not the masters, of the weaker sex. Of course, there are some surprisingly compliant females. But largely, they are the infamous minority you'll never meet, and they owe their reputation in no small part to a sit-com called Sex and the City. The truth of the matter is that, on the contrary, a woman likes the feeling of being indulged, especially by a man who can unite the manners of a perfect gentleman with the utmost attention to the G-spot (which, incidentally, doesn‘t exist). I don’t even know how we got to the point where being promiscuous is valued above, say, virtue or intelligence? But got there we have. We all know that men are sexually predatory. The male is after all the principal procreative member, the predatory master phallus par excellence.
And that, surely, is how women love to hate him.
Personally, I don't even want sex unless it is unconditionally given. What I want is enchanted hours of deferred gratification with my adorable soul-mate and, ultimately, a coming together in a massive electrical charge. I want a lovable hero who has the power to induce my compliance with one enthralling kiss from his lips. Romance is libido on the wing! Infatuation an intellectual twister - an extreme, head-spinning boost waiting to take wings. It is a meeting of minds, a time of almost idiotic rapture, but it is also an acknowledgement of personal value — and that can be a very desirable emotional prize.
Dreamy
