I’ve always loved women. I love the way they smell, look, act and react. I admire their ability to weep at the drop of a hat, yet handle heartache with the strength of an army.
I relate better to women than men, finding them much easier to talk to. I like to flirt with them, too, and my dad says he learned everything about hitting on the opposite sex from me. In fact, for someone who’s never been sexually attracted to females, I’ve had quite a few girlfriends.
Elaine was talk, dark, and mysterious. I fell desperately in love with her one warm, sunny day when my grandparents had a huge outdoor picnic and invited over practically everyone they knew. It didn’t matter that I was only around 7 years old or that she was several years my senior – I was spellbound. I remember following her around the entire day, sitting in her lap, and holding her hand. My tiny heart was broken soon after when it became clear that she really preferred a boyfriend whose lap she could sit in.
Deana became the light of my life a short time later. She was blond, popular, and determined not to fall for my romantic advances. I passed note after note to her with the earnest but overused line, “I like you. Do you like me?” followed by check boxes for “Yes” and “No.” It was always a negative, but sometimes it was just crumpled up and thrown back at me. Embracing the challenge, I never gave up my pursuit of her until I left for another school in the middle of the fourth grade.
Amber was also blond and popular. She had this incredibly annoying habit of switching between her first and middle names from year to year. The “Amber” from last semester now insisted on being referred to as “Dawn.” How could anyone not find that intriguing? I was smitten with everything about her and began emulating one of her most fascinating characteristics – her impeccable penmanship.
Although Amber never showed any interest in me for most of the time that we knew one another, she decided one day that she would wager her heart on a game of chess. If the winner was one person, it belonged to Matt. If it was the other, it belonged to me. Of course, Matt won possession of her devious little heart and I promptly collapsed into tears. Apparently the pity party paid off, because she immediately dumped him and became my girlfriend.
We would laugh and joke about kissing, but her ruby lips never touched mine and it wasn’t long before summer came and we parted ways. I think she changed schools the next year, but I like to fantasize that she is somewhere writing her first and second name in that beautiful script and is happily married to a chess champion.
I had known Sarah my entire life, but I suddenly realized that she was the most beautiful girl on the planet! She resembled an angel with her light-colored hair and porcelain skin. My arch-nemesis was Lamar, and it didn’t help matters that everyone said we looked and acted just alike. Similarities or not, she seemed to like him while having no time for me.
Missy was a feisty little redhead who was at least 3 years older than me. I was in seventh grade and had just had my braces removed when her friend informed me that she liked me. That’s pretty much all it took in those days to make two people an item, and we were together for as long as it took her to realize that I wouldn’t be making any physical advances.
By that time in my life, I was beginning to realize that something about me was a little different from most other guys. I still liked girls, but unlike most of the guys in my age group, I wasn’t the least bit interested in talking them out of their clothes.
So, here I am at almost thirty-four years of age and I’ve never even kissed a girl. I still get crushes on women and every once in a while one gets a crush on me. It’s flattering and a big ego boost, but this is one ladies man who would rather put a girl in a fabulous outfit than take her out of it.