Things I enjoy about being male:

1. Topless-ness is not grounds for imprisonment
2. If you have romantic inclinations, you can pursue without social stigma
3. Nobody has ever asked if I had a girl in the car to assure my safety late at night
4. Facial hair or no facial hair, it’s your choice
5. If you’re feeling lazy, you don’t have to read non-verbal communication, you’re not supposed to be able to anyway
6. If you want to dress nicely, that’s fine, but not required

Things I’m not so fond of:

1. Speeding tickets, you know what I mean
2. When they cry, you have no options
3. When you cry, you’re a puss, at least in most people’s eyes
4. You can’t say you love your friends unless you’re drunk
5. You really aren’t as good at reading their emotions as you’d like to think
6. Nobody wants to see you naked, so if you streak, you’d better run

The thing about this whole romantic entanglements thing is that neither of us really ever seem to know what’s going on, or even what should be going on. Even the most confidant guys I know, guys who really should be able to just relax because they know the girl is going to fall for them, don’t. They’re actually self-conscious and nervous just like I am, maybe even more so. Perhaps their identity has become so connected with being accepted and desired that a rejection becomes even more devastating. I’m used to it, I’m familiar with moving on.

In all of the wonderful freedom that our current society provides, with so many varied ways of relating between men and women, there comes a paralysis when you realize that you have no idea what you’re “supposed” to be doing or feeling. Most of us, men and women alike, deep down fear being alone. We don’t want to be stuck going to the cinema with our parents on Sunday afternoon because there’s nothing else in our lives. But what are you going to do about it?

I seriously doubt I’m the only guy who can’t for sure say whether he wants the white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and wife who stays home, or rather the art school girlfriend who paints his clothes because, “They needed more white.” You may even be struggling to decide whether you want to be with the all black wearing girl who writes poems about dying, or the business suit wearing corporate executive. Or are these women, in some deep part of their souls, truly all women? Are we, somewhere between engineers, construction workers, and football players, truly all men?

Do we desire the same thing? What’s compatible supposed to even mean?

Are you supposed to start out with a crush? Start out as good friends? If you were to marry someone without seeing them first, would you be able to love them? Would you both have been happier with someone more, “compatible?” (Before I forget, at this point Sabrina has just made it clear to me that she knows more about human nature than should be allowed for a human. Go to her with any questions you might have.)
And what about games? Is it possible to avoid them, are they necessary, should I be enjoying them? I feel tired of playing games, I just feel like being open and honest, telling things like they are most of the time. I’d like to take her in my arms and tell her outright that I hope we can be happy together.

I don’t feel like pretending to like another girl so that she can be jealous. I don’t feel like not calling her for days on end to make her want me more, and worry that I’ve lost interest. Have I lost my mind, have I lost the whole point? I hope not. If so, maybe she’d be willing to lose her mind too, and maybe we could just be happy. 15 hours and counting.