Talking with you is sort of the conversational equivalent of an out of body experience...Calvin and Hobbes

Roget's New Millenium Thesaurus, First Edition (v 1.3.1)
Main Entry: way with words
Part of Speech: Noun
Definition: command of language
Synonyms: articulateness, articulation, elocution, eloquence, expressiveness, facility of speech, fluency, gift of gab, oratory, silver tongue, word power

I love words... like to say them, read them, write them.

I was very verbal, very early... and still am... but I also learned very early to listen carefully to the words people used, because sometimes what was said, wasn't always what was meant. And the things unsaid were often the most important and how people reacted and responded to the things that were said, were most important of all... all of which learning went completely out the window in the last 48 hours when I turned into the deranged woman from hell... sigh...

I love nothing more than to talk to people, to ask them questions, to explore who they are and how they feel about things. And to entertain them, with stories and anecdotes that are amusing and/or profound.

So it would stand to reason that in my interactions with men, that talking would be important, and for the most part, men have always talked to me, they haven't wanted to date me very often, and most definitely didn't want to marry me, but they always liked to talk...

And the critical thing for me in all of the important relationships with men has been the conversations, the interchange of thoughts, the comfort with which we have shared our hopes and aspirations and fears. I've discovered that I don't care what he does for a living, how much money he makes, whether he showers with me gifts... what I need a man to do is woo me with words...##

There was MFL, a dark, brooding, angst ridden boy when I first met him. We drunkenly pashed the first time we met, and the second time I saw him he resembled a teary, drowned rat, after some family domestic. I wrote him a letter, saying that if he wanted to talk I'd be happy to listen, which started a strange but wonderful relationship. As he describes us, we were friends who complicated things with sex and alcohol. He broke my heart, then mended it again, and I danced at his wedding a few years ago.

There was Boomerang Boy, who sat with me on a park swing on our first date till the wee small hours of the morning talking about everything and all things... His friends said but he doesn't talk... to which I replied, well he talks to me.

I fell in love with him that night, while he struggled so hard to find things we had in common, and he bared his soul. It was easy enough to do, as if I'm honest, I'd been having lustful thoughts in my panties about him for months beforehand... but that night he opened a door to my heart and assigned himself a place in it... but he was often uncomfortable that I knew so much about him...

Looking back, it was doomed to fail... as he isn't naturally communicative, this is the man who doesn't like to talk during sex as it's too distracting! I laughed, apparently, you're not supposed to do that either... Though I have him partly to thank for helping my writing... it was after daring me to explore some fantasies that I wrote a collection of erotic short stories for him...

And S - for 8 years I got to share my workday with a man who respected my thoughts and opinions, and trusted me implicitly. He gave me opportunities, and got out of my way as I explored them. If I'd been married to him, I'd have killed him in a month... as he is so laid back to be almost comatose... but he gets me. He took the time to work out the logic behind my apparently illogical behaviour... which relies a lot on gut, and intuition and my reading of other people. So if I said, that approach isn't going to work with that person, he would listen. Then usually go ahead and do it anyway, just to be contrary and then trust me to work it out...

There was W - my first real experience with being attracted to a man because of his mind, and the things he had to say. From a physical standpoint, I couldn't say I found him appealing, and I'm positive it was the same for him... he was very vocal about the type of women he liked, and I certainly wasn't it...but the conversations! He paid me the ultimate compliment once, by saying he loved arguing with me... not only could I hold up my end of the argument and state my position clearly, I could explain rationally why I felt the way I did. He said I love it, except when you are so good at it that you convince me that you're right and I'm wrong, and then I hate it... bitch!

And then we come to now...

I started to write this post a week ago, but couldn't comfortably post it, as it felt unfinished. And realised today that the reason it was unfinished, as it was a prelude to now, and the absolute balls-up I've made of a friendship with a lovely guy. He's the reason I'm writing here at all, as he's encouraged me to write, write, write as he puts it.

Imagine what it feels like for me, to meet someone who is just genuinely interested in people and engaging in dialogue, who is witty in a slightly off kilter way, and clever, clever, clever... and then imagine me when he seems to take some delight in the things I have to say and the way that I say them. And can more than hold his own on the communication front... he can play the verbiage volley like a champion. Actually I think he's better at this than me, as he wouldn't take a thousand words when only ten will do. His take on all of this would go something like:

Verbose, slightly deranged, but funny girl completely misinterprets and misunderstands interest of polite, short responses boy!

It seemed miraculous that by chance I should stumble across this man... and feel so immediately comfortable talking to him... and in all my excitement, I was totally oblivious to the fact that he's not quite so comfortable with me. Do I think that he enjoys me, yeah, I think he does. Do I freak him out a little, yeah... and after the last 48 hours, I'd say the freak-o-meter is now in the danger zone...sigh...

To be honest, I'm not sure how much of this was about sexual attraction. Was I attracted to him, yes, most definitely. Did he make my loins burn with lust... ahh that would be a no... though I did ask myself the question I always ask... could I kiss this face? And surprised myself by saying yeah, maybe... which is a huge thing for me... while I love men, I can honestly say there aren't too many men that pass the 'could I kiss this face?' test, and if I can't kiss their face, sure as eggs, not going to be doing anything else with them!###

It was the words... the word play... the toing and froing of ideas and silliness that was so attractive. And unbeknown to him, every time he engaged and played with me, I became a little bit more smitten. Every time he told me that I was perceptive and funny and clever, I swooned a little... reacting like a girl that has just been told that she was pretty...

Except there has been some words used that don't make me feel so pretty... like you are unconventional, or you over analyse things, or you think you know me but you don't... which have made me pause... radar quivering, thinking some thing's not quite right here...

And a pattern of advance and withdraw that is scarily familiar... yes I want to play, no I don't... I know none of this was deliberate, and in none of this has he been rude or obnoxious... quite the opposite in fact.

But it was my own response that has worried me most... and the realisation that this has become important, he has become important... when in fact, he's little more than a stranger... and I've allowed myself to get emotionally involved to a much higher level than was warranted... caught up in the words and the dialogue without seeing if there was anything behind them...

And then yesterday with a simple question from him of are you OK... I let all of this worry spew out... talk about somethings are better left unsaid... but I needed to say it... needed to get some sense of where he was coming from... which I did... most definitely...what is it that they say... be careful what you ask, as you may not like the answer...

I think this could be my most spectacular form of self-sabotage yet...

And I'm sad today... not weeping and wailing sad, just sad... sad because I have crashed and burned a sweet and lovely friendship and sad because at the same time I have upset someone who has shown me nothing but kindness.... poor man... and mostly sad because I was enjoying myself... was stimulated and challenged in ways that I haven't been for a long time, if ever... and I'm going to miss this and him...


## I've always said that the way to win me is to stop me talking (and thinking) but am starting to think that what I need is a man who can talk me into bed... imagine a continuous dialogue while you get me naked and horizontal...

### sounds extreme, but I did once have to stop the car on the way home and put my head between my knees and dry-heave into the gutter, after a boy I definitely did not want to, decided to tickle my tonsils. So, am very, very careful not to get myself into situations where that is likely to happen again...