I am without doubt, shattered. It has been an emotionally draining few days, culminating in a saint taking the Bitch of my hands for a week. Managing 4 children, a bitch, sleep deprivation and free work experience is catching up with me. Rediscovering and reinventing yourself after 20 plus years, at the same time as being a single parent and all that goes with it, is quite tiring.
I changed my gym routine last week. I couldn't walk for three days. Today I went back and tomorrow I shall be crippled. I appear to have a fundamental problem with being told that there are some things women are not designed to do. This is the point at which I have to prove that I am not most women and that I can do whatever it is that they have told me I cannot. I once trained as a Graphic Designer because the college lecturer said that it was not a career for girls. I hated Graphic Design.
I have never had any doubt that I am not like most women (or indeed most people). I have always suspected that I have an inner man . I fear that if I don't wax my eyebrows in the next couple of days, I may have an outer man too.
Mr Hand Stand Press Ups was in the gym again this evening. He has the most impressive and muscular body. In yet another Samantha moment, I was momentarily mesmerised. Yet no matter how perfect the body, how charming the smile - it still wasn't all there. This chemistry thing is an odd notion. Something you cannot articulate, you cannot see or rationalise and yet it is more powerful than almost any other sensation.
When you dissect the attributes of the few people in your life that you have chemistry with, it becomes even more unfathomable. Take the chemistry away and are they drop dead gorgeous? probably not. Are they perfect? probably not. Are they the most intelligent person you have ever met? probably not. More importantly, do they have nice feet? Probably not and yet, even with the acceptance that they are not Gods Gift - there is something there that you cannot shut off, a physical sensation that you cannot describe. What a complete pain in the arse life can be.
So the man in the gym did not give me the chemistry thing. As I lay sweating in the sauna I wondered if chemistry was all that important. Perhaps meaningless flings with hot bodies was fine too. It seems to me that people compromise all of the time. Perhaps the most common compromise is in fact, giving up chemistry.
I am not so sure that I could. Sex without chemistry is no more than a half encountered physical act. There is no sexuality. Sexuality is far sexier than sex. Chemistry is the sensation you get when you look at someone, when they stroke your face, when they look into your eyes and you feel things that are simply not able to be articulated. The anticipation with chemistry is more than a singular event. Chemistry creates desire, chemistry ingrains that person in your head, no matter how much you try to kick them out of it.
This is not to say that you cannot have a purely physical encounter with someone you have chemistry with (Commonly referred to as a shag). There is scope for all kinds of encounters when you have met with chemistry. Without it, there is only scope for one.
In the meantime, I shall hold out for chemistry and the sauna. They seem like a combination worthy of my consideration. As I watched Hand Stand Press Up man walk across the car park, I did wonder if perhaps compromising on chemistry just once; wouldn't be such a bad thing.
Occasionally, I yearn to be another person. Someone who is more able to compromise on morals, on integrity, on values. Someone that laughs at words such as chemistry, Karma and gut instinct. Someone that sees an opportunity and grabs it, by the arse.
In the midst of an unanticipated emotional free fall last Friday, a friend of mine said
"What can we do, what do you need"
"I need a spontaneous sexual encounter" I replied
"Oh" said another friend excitedly "I have one of those under my bed"
I feel ever so slightly jaded
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