The first photo I saw of you was innocently posted in public. A casually posed shot, careless, a little blurry with movement, shirtless, showing an obviously lean body, no detail, a shock of dark hair.
My comment on it was understated, controlled, it was, after all, a photo of some boy I didn’t know and I am rarely moved by them, though I can appreciate beauty in many forms.
“…and thank you muchly for the eye candy you have already provided in your profile photo. You are a very pretty boy indeed.”
Fast forward several months: now I know you.
Now, I see a smart, articulate, young crushing boy who wields his vocabulary as if he is stomping around in shoes two sizes too big. A joyful bouncy optimism coloured brightly with a willingness to argue with me when we disagree, the buoyancy punctuated with moments of introspection, and wide-ranging thoughtful and idealistic opinions of the world.
Now, it is different.
Now, I am rendered inarticulate by how fucking pretty you are.
The photos you create just for me land in my inbox like thought bombs, sometimes unbidden surprises, sometimes requested and expected.
I know already what is coming when I see an attachment, and I am already shaking my head at myself before I even look at what you have gifted me.
I imagine that my response looks like a cartoon double-take, a kind of shocked disbelief when the image opens on screen.
Each photo is new, a surprise, a shock, even though I know by now what your body looks like, all lean and sinewy, dewy skin stretched over tight strong muscles. And it makes me smirk even now as I write this because I know you have pumped it up in the moments before you take the shot for me… maybe some push ups, crunches, fist pumping to pop out muscles and veins for me. Just for me. This thought makes my stomach flutter, it makes me melt a little from the inside.
When I look at your body, my reaction is comical, I know it. I am all head-shakey (“No…nono nooooo!!!!”) with a huge smile on my face. Sometimes I cover my own face with my hand just shaking my head at my own self, and sometimes I laugh out loud and say things like “Oh my fucking god!!” and “Are you serious?!” into the emptiness of the room. I am sure it must be hilariously ridiculous to watch. You are so fucking pretty it makes my IQ drop like a stone, your beauty makes me stupid!!
I often keep the image open on my screen and wander off to do other things.
Later, when I click over to it, perhaps I have forgotten that I have it open there in the background, I am shocked again by it, I have to do a little mental head-shake to loosen the brain cells that completely freeze over, transfixed.
When I look closely, deliberately and carefully, with intent and imagination, letting my eyes travel over the ridges and curves of your body, it makes my throat tighten, my jaw clench, my teeth ache, it makes it hard to breath. I like especially the things you don’t realise you have shown me in the photo. The casual masculinity and strength in your relaxed hands, the tendon standing out at your neck, the bones at your collar, the tilt of your jaw.
Hello, pretty thing.
The photos you create just for me land in my inbox like thought bombs, sometimes unbidden surprises,
This I like!… There’s nothing quite like a well placed email thought bomb to brighten the day and quicken then heart. I only wish I could see your eye popping happiness. It *IS* after all all about you and when you’re happy, so are the rest of your followers!
“There’s nothing quite like a well placed email thought bomb to brighten the day and quicken then heart.”
*smile* Well, I happen to know you have done your share!
“I only wish I could see your eye popping happiness.”
I think it looks kind of like this
Dear Ms Ferns:
First, I apologize for being naughty and not being on your blog (though I have read a few columns) over the past 2 months or so. I assure you this is my fault and nothing to do with you or your blog. It is still on my links and I intend to post more again.
Second I must be naughty because the thought of you running into a guy like this and what your reaction would be makes burst into happy laughter. So here is a naughty link that is safe for work, but might age you a few years ;)
“First, I apologize for being naughty and not being on your blog… over the past 2 months or so.”
No apology or assurances necessary, but thank you for it.
“the thought of you running into a guy like this and what your reaction would be makes burst into happy laughter.”
At first I thought you meant a guy like the one in my post, because that would be relevant! And that thought makes me burst into happy laughter also!!
“So here is a naughty link that is safe for work, but might age you a few years”
But then I thought, oh wait, you mean THIS guy?
You know what I liked about that link? This is exactly what dominant women get all the time: “Here’s how to ‘be dominant’… no no, you can’t do that, it’s not ‘dominant enough’…”.
I actually love that men get this bullshit ‘advice’ also: “Loom ominously over her shoulder.”. Really? REALLY? *laugh*
Ferns according to your post and ok the one that Clarence links to, (hello Clarence) I may have this wrong. Yes I scrub up. But after that no I cannot be bothered too much with trying to impress. Not so much. Of course I would speak up if someone actually rubbished me or something. But I tell myself that a woman will be *less* comfortable if a man seems to set out to impress her. That’s what I tell myself anyway.
I have no idea what you are talking about, Satan.
Are you talking about my post? Who is trying to impress who?
Sorry Ferns. You ask.
“…Are you talking about my post? Who is trying to impress who?”
Yes I am.
1. You tell us that the first guy (that is the guy in your post) is trying to impress you.
2. The second guy, that is the guy Clarence links to, (hello again Clarence), that guy, tells us that he is trying to impress the woman in his post.
Thank you for clarifying.
“But I tell myself that a woman will be *less* comfortable if a man seems to set out to impress her.”
*smile* Okay, given your clarification, the answer is ‘yes’ and ‘no’.
Consider a man who takes me somewhere special, who takes care with his appearance if he is going to see me, who remembers things I say and acts on it, who sends me beautiful photos he knows I will enjoy. That man is trying to impress me. And yes please, give me more of that!
Now consider a man who acts in a false way because he thinks it will make me like him more, who has a bunch of strategies that ‘work with women’, who insincerely gives me compliments, who tells me what he thinks I want to hear. That man is also trying to impress me. And that stuff doesn’t work.
So I am perfectly comfortable with and welcome attempts to impress me by figuring out what I will enjoy and acting on that knowledge.
Yes that makes good sense.
A woman can like a man to use tricks to impress her.
She can like him to impress her (no tricks).
In the end she can just want him to love her.
And let me put it this way.
Heeheeh. Be honest, Ms Ferns. IF you read even a substantial part of that, did your jaw hit the floor?
Anyway, I’m glad you got a laugh out of it. I’ll do a post a little later about what I thought was wrong or funny about it, and that will be it. But the whole goal of posting it here was to help you laugh :)
P.S. Hi, Satan! lol
No my jaw didn’t hit the floor. There was nothing new or interesting there. M/f stuff is all over the internet in some form or other. Same same.
I’m not quite sure why you are bringing it here though, Clarence. I am having a sense of deja vu here (we have had a similar exchange before). If you want to comment on or discuss *other* people’s writing that isn’t relevant to my post, then this is not the place to do it.
To be clear, you are most welcome here, it’s nice to see you back. I’m not upset or angry, it’s just irrelevant. It’s like me going to a blog about whales and going ‘Look, over here, a box girder bridge! Let’s talk about that!’
*scribbles all over icky boy pics* NO NO NO back to hawt laaaaydeeeeeeees with you
*laugh* Hey! In three years, I have written ONE post about the laaaayyydeeesss. I try and try and it’s just never enough with you!! Heh.
Ahhh yes. I think I know of this lovely boy. *Note to self – find young delicious boy to get email bombed by*
He *is* a lovely boy!
And I absolutely agree with your plan to go and find the young delicious for awesome email bombing! Good luck!
Beautifully written !
Thank you, Andrea.
This is good reading! Good, good good good reading!! hehe, thank you!!