Sunday, January 24, 2010

Head Banging...

I wanna beat my damned head against the wall. This game of dating; the butch-femme dance, whatever you want to call it these days, is just driving me over the edge.

Having, a few months ago, ended the dance with a young femme from down south, things are a bit jumbled in this butch's brain these days. She haunts me with what "I" did wrong, how I hurt her and I am just stumped at her inability to understand the butch persona and the butch personality, especially my personality. It's a hard thing for an old school butch to date a younger, less experienced femme these days. They just don't get it at all.

I'm butch. I'm rough around the edges, as they say, and can be tender and caring. I'm a gentlebutch to the core, I like to treat my woman good and with respect. but I'm not one to wear my heart on my sleeve; to be emotionally expressive or let my inner feelings, fears and struggles out in the open for anyone to see. I've always been like this, and I never had to explain it...never was with a woman who didn't understand that this is just part of the butch persona, that perhaps I think more like a guy in these respects. But this damned youngster about drove me over the edge with demands for sensitivity and emotional shit. At which, I failed miserably.

This butch wants to "fix" every damned thing. I despise that I could not figure out how to get through to this woman; am perplexed by her inability to understand or leave room for understanding. Then it dawned on me, through the words of an understanding femme friend, that this young woman was just too young and inexperienced to understand or even comprehend the old fashioned, old school butch that I am.

It was only a fleeting affair; something to fill the time and void left by my past. But still, one would wish that in the end that knowing you did the best you could by someone, perhaps even doing far beyond the best, would be enough to just sustain one to move on. But no, she must torment me with reminders of my slip ups, my mistakes, my inability to show emotion and recognize femme expression....hell, I have trouble telling when the damned dog needs to go outside, how the hell am I supposed to read some troubled femme's damned mind?

Ah, in the end it's good riddance anyway, she was just wasting my time. Her lack of understanding of the butch-femme dynamic; of the dance and it's intricacies was something it would have taken me years to teach her and would have brought me even more frustration. And I'm too old to be teaching some young piece something she should be learning from other femmes and is just too lazy to figure out.

Think I'll stick to the older, more experienced ladies from now on...or perhaps just continue to sit with the fact that I had what I wanted once, before her, and the beautiful memories of that could probably sustain me for a very long time to come.

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