Elliot is not an idiot.
He’s empathetic, progressive and stable. He has a degree in English, but works in a field where he only has to write reports, not prose. He’s tall, 6’7″, and married with a baby about the same age as mine and he and his wife have been married for 15 years and he’s only now close to 40.
Their openness evolved over many years of curious crushes on close friends and different sexual cravings. He can’t imagine ever being monogamous again, is thoughtful and particular. And he likes me. Like, likes me likes me.
His lips are pillowy soft and his embrace strong, his sense of humor wry and dirty, he’s sweet and has already made lists of things for us to do together. Can I be this excited about a married man??
I think I can. How could I not?
Some men took issue in my last post where I said I was “tired of idiot men and their bullshit.” They said that my assessment somehow preceded me and soured the milk before I ever brought it to my lips. That it was a reflection on my own narrow views of men and a self-fulfilling prophecy.
The judgment comes after they’re idiot men with loads of bullshit.
I’m hard to impress, yes, but that’s because I’m a highly sensitive, intelligent woman – not because I’m an asshole who hates men and if only I were more lenient or transparent with my needs they’d pass muster.
Idiot men say inappropriate things, have no cultural sensitivities and are rigid. They’re bigots and bad in bed, judgmental and irritating.
I have no time for men who reveal these things to me within a first date or two. That leaves me nothing to work with and why should I bother when there are men like Elliot just waiting their turn in the sun?
I walk around with an open heart and mind and see nothing wrong until I do. I don’t fabricate someone’s idiocy, but I’m entitled to recognize it and certainly allowed to reject it.
I don’t owe an idiot anything, but someone like Elliot deserves a lot.