Not because you want or need to know, it’s just that I need it.
Many years ago, it seemed to me that my life as a sexual being was over. This is a hard thing to accept when your whole life revolves around being cute. My whole life never actually involved being cute. I fought like a…a…Tasmanian Devil, to keep “cute” from being the thing that defined me.
Except it didn’t work. No matter how thougtful I was, how intelligent, how articulate, my whole life seemed to be defined by the size of my breasts. Ugh. The only cure for it was getting older and not being cute any more. I couldn’t wait.
It was such a relief.
So imagine me, finally being released from cute, meeting someone who surprised me.
I liked (like) him so much, and he hurt my feelings. He knows that, although I’m not really sure he gets why. I don’t guess that’s necessary that you understand why. Probably only necesssary to get over it and forgive and forget. I seem to be terrible at that.