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Here Be a Tale of Burgeoning Emotion. I imagine this happens every day here and there around the world as two people join together to practice whatever ritualistic behavior passes as dating in whatever society they find themselves in. You might look at it as a study guide for women who are trying to nail down some clarity on weather you are just hanging out with a guy or you are headed toward the dreaded relationship. This may just be my point of view or it could be very common amongst men. Time tells that tale.

Professions Of Love

These next words may seem a wee bit harsh but it is something I contemplate. It is well known that men are nowhere near in touch with their emotions as are woman - it is nearly scientific fact. Women, thru history, have forever uttered that complaint. "You never talk to me". Or “You never tell me how you’re feeling." This common procedure of a woman attempting to delve into our deeper thoughts, long before we are ready, has forever baffled and astounded me. They know we aren't in touch with our innermost emotions and yet they relentlessly persist much like a braying bloodhound. They’re forever prying, delving, and pursuing us to deliver our deeper thoughts to convey where we happen to be emotionally in a relationship. "Penny for your thoughts?" What the hell is that? One would hope the price of thoughts would have escalated lo these many years - what with the rampant inflation and all. I would have to check them against the Dow to be certain but I am thinkin that all a penny will get you these dayz is a fat lip and a bill for the buck ninety nine remainder. It's a retainer on a bruised ego yet to be delivered.

Yes, a bruised and sometimes shattered ego, especially, early on in a bourgeoning relationship. I mean timing sometimes doesn't matter but I find it of paramount importance in a relationship to be reserved with how much one shares with a prospective mate in the beginning.

Case in Point: A friend and I once took 2 girls on a double first time date. We were, all of us, getting along splendidly until the end of the night. After having dropped off the second couple we were on our way back to her house when she began to divulge alot of personal information (this is obviously an extreme example of my point.). Very personal and manic depressive information which, had we been together as a couple for any length of time, it may not have been so disturbing as it was our first ever date it only horrified me to think what the rest of our relationship might be like. As she droned on about her past her nasally voice began to get drowned out by the sound of alarms and warning bells and whistles resounding through my skull. Pressing harder on the gas pedal my car accelerated exponentially with each new dismal detail. I don't think she ever noticed that we were doing in excess of 90 miles per hour on a posted 35 mph city street. Though this didn't happen I chuckle now to picture this girl in the midst of her diatribe being jostled about by my erratic driving and casually deciding to buckle up for safety without missing a breath in her oration. Speaking of breath, I, myself breathed a sigh of relief as I pulled into her driveway, said a quick goodbye and submitted myself to a depressing energy draining leach like hug that threatened to suck my soul from my body. I had made more moving violations in that 20-minute drive to her house that night then I have in my entire driving career.

Yes, agreed, this is an extreme case of a woman delving deep far to early in what she wants to share with someone with whom she has an interest in forming a relationship. But it clearly shows that she was far more in touch with her emotions then I was at the time. I ended up dishing that girl off on a friend who expressed an interest in dating her (The guy from the other couple that night.) and they dated for a while. "Some friend am I," you say, never fear, he paid me back in spades later on, but that's another story for another time. As, mayhaps, this one should have been. Alas, I have strayed, just a tad, from my original subject - The topic of men and women and their emotions.

In any new relationship there has to be a time where two people just tentatively feel each other out, so to speak. I mean conversations are cool, don't get me wrong, they are the only gauge of compatibility, but you need to build toward the deeper stuff. We men have spent years developing a 'MACHO' barrier between ourselves, and our emotions. It is a wall that took many years to erect. I mean the Berlin wall didn't just come down over night... Er... wait a minute. I guess it did kinda come down over night so that's a bad analogy - but it was ready to come down. Men on the other hand are not so ready to drop their defenses. So we tend to attempt to keep women at a safe distance just as a precaution. Love, after all, is most definitely a word that lasts forever, and men are nearly religiously and politically opposed to utter that word before they are certain. Until we are satisfied that it is safe to do so without fear of the power the word gives to a woman. Generally, long before we are ready, a woman tells us just how much they care for us. Just how much they adore us and love us, and it leaves us dumbfounded and stuttering for something monumental to say in reply. Something that even half ass compares to the litany of oppressive overwhelming emotion that just tumbled from their pie hole. I ponder how many women have sat blinking in shock after being promptly dumped immediately after a beautiful and heartfelt confession of deep love and emotion. All the while they never come to the realization they have done this unto themselves.

Their strong ties to there emotions throw common sense straight through the plate glass window as they spew out the vile sap that is their emotions. And we listen, and mumble back responses feebly, because we were having a great time up until this point. We were all about joking and showing off using our skill with witty commentary - Cracking our jokes to amuse you, using sarcasm and double entendre to humorous effect in efforts to amuse you. Then we are blindsided with out notice, after a shared laugh a woman breathes a glowing sigh and says those three little words.

ACK! And then there are the eyes - Piercing eyes. That cut right through a man with careful and shrewd scrutiny to gauge the effect those words have just had on him. It is merciless, and there ought to be a law against this cruel and unusual punishment. Oft times I have contemplated a worthy response for this moment yet have never found one worthy. Never found anything remotely useable to sidetrack the impending conversation that did not invoke anger in a woman. But here are my choices, 1.) Make a wise crack, which will most likely upset her. Ya tend to hope that you can make up for it later. (You can’t.) or 2.) Say something, anything that says you have strong feelings for her as well. (Stay away from the ‘L’ word.) Choosing twixt these two options is really a judgment call.

The first option there will require loads of wit to cover up which rarely works, and generally just brings you back around to having to use number 2. (Hmmm, odd that it should be number 2, as that refers to crap.) And once you have uttered something remotely concerned with feelings you have opened the door for her to unload upon you. Prepare yourself. “Here is my baggage; could you unpack that for me please?” She seems to say right off. And there you are, right smack dab in the middle of everything you tried to avoid as she makes with the cooing lovey-dovey stuff.

There is a point in a woman’s delivery where a mans hearing gets all tin can and the pressure in his head turns into a vacuum until there is a large popping sound. The man will blink a few times and from here on out all he hears is Charlie Browns, teacher. The man is not immune to emotion, nor to it is he blind, he is merely unable to reach so deep within himself. It’s like trying to get to Carnegie Hall from Show-lo, Arizona. Now, I have been to Show-Lo, and you can’t get to Carnegie Hall from there.

She is on a rant now. She is all, “you make me feel so special, so happy. You make each gloomy day bright for me. Do you believe in love at first site? I do.” (Try not to look away - this could be bad.) She continues, “My day is not complete until you say ‘goodnight’, nor does it start til your good mornings.” The man is beginning to feel as if he’s Jerry ‘Fucking’ McGuire! His sphincter tightens up as he begin to contemplate that any minute she could stop talking signaling that it is his turn to say something sweet. This particular feeling is beautiful for she goes on, and this feeling grows and grows within him. “Oh god, help me, what will I do, what will I say when she stops?” His ballz try to climb back up inside him, he feels faint.

And while the woman, Blah, blah, blahs herself to just this side of hyperventilation’s all he can think is, "Jesus Fucking Christ, I have to live up to that." He starts to thinkin how there is no way in hell that he can be the man she thinks he is. I mean that is one special dude she is describing, and it doesn’t sound an ounce like him. That dude is one hell of a guy and if he ever met that guy, he would most likely swoon for him as well. Sweat forms on the brow as the hairs on the back of the man’s neck stand up and do the electric slide.

So here is this guy who, at this point, has never been further from an emotion in his entire life. Fear has choked the life out of his thought process. He couldn’t swallow a gnat for the constriction of his throat and dryness of his mouth. With all those beautiful professions she has hoisted upon him, he has to live up to those, and what's worse, she just stopped talking. Now, she is sitting there batting her lashes waiting for him to respond. It is now up to him to scour the dull void of his frontal lobe for some bit of romantic drivel that is of equal weight and sappiness - Something that is monumentally gooey.

Oh, but he will struggle. He will strive to find that lovely phrase to appease her, and usually, he will fail. More often then not, the next words he utters are as follows, "Ummmm, I think that we should see other people."


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