Recently, I posted a piece here that discussed building a “stable” of beautiful women; a little black book if you will. The idea was to keep several women available so I could spread my desire around, and not rely too much on any one of them to fill my lonely hours. The goal was also to avoid falling too quickly for one, before she’s ready.
No deceptions in the stable either; each woman would know about the others. In fact, they might become good friends and perhaps even conspire to usher my greatest romantic fantasies into reality. That would be nice. With the stable, I hoped to avoid wanting more of a specific lady than she’s comfortable giving, and it sounded like it could work; academically anyhow.
But yesterday, [Linda] read that post, and though she seemed okay with the concept, I felt ashamed and wished that she’d not seen it. Why? My goal is to convince her that she’s among the top two or three nicest women I’ve known, and that I in fact know this even after just one date. Yet I’m contradicting that message if while campaigning to [Linda], I’m fooling around with others. It just feels wrong.
I’m not “waiting” for [Linda] per se. But I wish her to know the true me just the same. The truth is that I’ve always been a one-woman man; at least while dating someone so utterly captivating, that the other girls seem plain. When I’m with a right woman, those others just don’t matter, and it would be disingenuous of me to pursue foot play with them, when that’s not what I really want.
At the party there were lots of “pretty” girls, and some looked similar to [Linda]. But only the light from [Linda’s] star illuminated my world that night; the others were just faint twinkles in a black sky, that completely disappeared once [Linda’s] sun rose, and shined brightly across my physical and emotional landscape in the red room.
So now, I doubt this whole stable idea. [Linda] said I should meet others at the next party. Of course, I won’t know the dynamics until I get there. But my heart says that I don’t want to meet others. Indeed I’d do sessions with [Linda] exclusively all night, if she’s up for that. She means a lot, and I want to be sure that she hears this message, loud and clear, and without tarnish. I don’t want her to think that she means less to me because I’m messing around with other women. So there will be no messing; not unless [Linda] insists on it. If she’s there in June and if she likes, it will be just her and me, the whole evening, for one long session.
Building the stable at this point would mean lying, if to no one else but myself. That’s still a lie though, and it’s wrong. [Linda] is the lady I want right now; indeed, she’s the only lady I want right now. So until that changes, until this wave of passion recedes, I cannot build the stable. To do so could make [Linda] think I care for her less than I do, and could make the other ladies think I care for them more than I do. So I can’t do it. This was a bad idea.
The stable is great for the text books. But it falls way short in real life. I hope never to be so selfish that I could, without guilt, erect such a structure. So I’ll find other ways to cope with the times of uncertainty; times that abound in any new romance. I’ll learn, without playing with other women, to put on the brakes, and slow down.
[Linda], I’m so sorry.