As you may recall, back in February I wrote this column coming out as a jerkaholic and vowed to go on a dating hiatus. I have been on a dating hiatus. Pretty much. Well, I haven’t been on any official dates…
However, I must admit that my life hasn’t been completely bereft of male companionship. I have to admit that on more than a couple and less than several occasions, I was muscled by my hormones into giving in to intense sexual craving had a few casual sexual encounters. Come on people, cut me some slack! There’s only so much satisfaction that a girl can get from Friday night dates with her Hitachi Magic Wand or her Wahl Vibrator with g-spot dildo attachment. Sometimes you just need to touch some skin! You know what I mean?
However, these handful of fleeting sexual encounters are not what has taught me the most about myself. What has provided me with some real insight is the mind-wrenching realisation that I do want and need some sort of straight-male companionship. Why do I call this mind-wrenching? Because I’ve been fighting this nearly my entire adult life. Fighting my girlfriends who insist they need a man for something, fighting my own instincts, fighting, dare I say it, Mother Nature?
I don’t want to need men for anything (except sex). I don’t want to need male companionship. But during this dating hiatus thing, I’ve realised that during all of the periods of my life that I have been single, I have had some kind of straight male companionship in my life. After I broke up with “Vito” and vowed to not date for a while, I crushed on a few male co-workers. Nothing ever came of these crushes, but they served the straight-male companionship thing. Once I moved to NYC, I began dating again. Throughout all of my single and not so single times, I had dependable straight male companionship from Angryman which continued on and off for year. After I broke up with Mr. 3.5 Inches and went on a dating hiatus for nearly an entire year, I discovered the world of on-line dating and found virtual male companionship to be quite satisfying until I was ready to date again.
Now, here I am at 33, on a publicly announced dating hiatus. But all the while I’ve been crushing on a man. We talk everyday, we see each other quite a bit, we have sex, and neither of us have any intention of this “thing” ever going anywhere, true to my pattern, he is a Mr. Unavailable and, as it seems, I continue to be a Ms. Unavailable. Neither of us intends on this “thing” to ever go anywhere. Yet we continue. I know that I am addicted to the companionship. To this type of companionship.
So, I guess that, technically, I’ve been cheating on this dating hiatus. And even worse, the purpose of this hiatus was to have some time to clear my head and to be self-reflective and try to understand my addiction to jerks and Mr. Unavailables and to try to stop the vicious cycle. And what have I gone and done but get myself emotionally hooked on another Mr. Unavailable. Oh how ironic.
Originally posted by New York Moments (blog has since closed down).