How much a body cost?
A journey of intentional intimacy
I can remember every woman I’ve been intimate with. I know their scent, the way their curves fit next to me, even the candor of their laugh. There are many nights that I’ve resorted to going home alone rather than indulging in one-night stands and temporary highs. As a man, the “glory” is in your body count.
Aye, you gotta get that, bruh.
I’ve said some variation of this to myself. At one point, it was the goal. To get the baddest girl in the room to show off— until I recognized a pattern. Every time I got the “baddest”— a woman even badder would pop up. The grass was never greener. Every woman had her own set of baggage that I, sometimes, couldn’t handle but often obligated myself to solve. Over time, I made things simple— every interaction had a time limit. If the following things happened, it was time to close the chapter:
Second-guessed the attraction
Felt like I was showing the most interest
Got shut out from having hard conversations
Didn’t feel a sense of reciprocation
Couldn’t get consistency (regarding talking often and spending quality time together.
We make time for what matters, and I’d rather be upfront and direct than be led in circles about a “possibility”. Men are solutionists, hunter-gatherers, competitors, and warriors by nature (well, they’re supposed to be; I don’t know what’s in the water or chicken), and as a result, there’s this eagerness to be “king of the hill”. Who will come out as the most successful? The competition for conquering (whether it be intimacy, commerce, or even whose kid goes to the best schools) amongst men didn’t satisfy me. I needed to figure out what made me happy and not what my bros accepted. While it’s nice to have the opinions of others considered, I needed to quiet the noise. Sometimes hive mind works out, and other times it’s a train wreck. You mean to tell me that just cause I slept with a baddie, that means that everything is gonna be automatically better?
Who cares if the world likes her if I don’t like her? What is the point in trying to be with someone that I don’t care about? The eyes want what they want, but I use my ears to make better choices for myself. I have no desire to have sex for the sake of killing time. How many nuts does it take for men to stop fucking around? I’m not sure, but what I do know is that I ain’t for every woman, and that’s okay.
I got better things to do.