What is sex? What is gender? What is body? What is anything? I have such a hard time wrapping my mind around these ideas.
Here is the man, there is the woman, their bodies are like puzzle pieces.
I don’t have a place in this puzzle.
What is sex? What is the meaning of life?
I don’t know.
What if? What if sex. What if sex is not gender? What if it is? What if, as so many say, every relationship I embark on will turn into such trivial gender roles? What if I have to choose to be the man or the woman? What if?
Man and woman, fitting together like puzzle pieces, but where is my empty space in this puzzle?
I don’t know if I understand.
Sometimes I need to be ‘the woman.’ Sometimes I need to love you and hold you and let my emotions get in the way. I have to let my judgement be clouded by your kisses and I need you to touch me and tell me I have a good figure and a fucking great personality. That I am so much more than your barbie doll dreams. Sometimes it is imperative that I am soft, that I follow your lead.
And sometimes I am ‘the man.’ Sometimes I tell you what’s what and I throw tantrums when you defy me. I will break your heart, I will sever our ties, and I will apologise with flowers because I never did learn to use gentle words.
What is sex? Is this love? Is this what we feel? Are the softness and the hardness meant to fold together like the hands of two lovers on their wedding day?
What is marriage? You have to marry the opposite. Always the other, you never express love to yourself to your curves and your blood and your tongue in my mouth and the air.
Some people say the sky and the sea are married. But they are the same. They’re big and open and unforgiving and… beautiful. But the sky and the ocean are different, too. Air and water, and water and air, and nothing.
I don’t think I understand.
I don’t want you to be unhappy or confused. But I love how you put your thoughts into words on this issue. Romantic love is a mysterious and puzzling thing, even for those who are conventionally aligned.
I quite like the title of this. You are much bolder than I; I tend to keep my confusions folded up in my underwear drawer and hope no one finds them.
I so feel what you are saying here.
At one point I decided that being a total mean person was an ability required for both genders. It made me feel very empowered, I relished my new found ability to be a raving maniac… even though my throat and my deepest heart would end up scalded and blistered as though I had spewed lava via my words. ** Now my emotions swing back and forth across the median line of balance every few years or so. Maybe some day I can finally perch somewhere in the middle near level. Maybe it is a growth process. Baby steps is all I have managed for most of my long life. ** Being very vulnerable to someone else means that they can really push buttons. I have let that person close to my heart. I have made the choice to forsake the state of being numb and allowed instant access to my “soul” to my loved one. This is a good and bad thing… depends greatly on which people I allow that kind of access. ** I applaud your free spirited writing here. Exposure to others is a brave thing. BRAVO!!