Monogamie

I know I might sound very ‘Sex and the City’ tonight, but those days I got to think about exclusivity. How comes we all get used to the idea that monogamy simply doesn’t exist? We are constantly flooded with the concept that you cannot expect it all form one person. That it is absolutely adequate to uncover the pleasures of life with different people, sometimes one after the other, sometimes simultaneously with several. Women are told to forget feelings as soon as their highschool crush turns into a crash, get over him (and all men) and get to the better part of life- love lobotomy – no feelings, just fun. Are girls nowadays made believe that romantic men are an urban myth, that sex can be casual and that having more than 30 people in your secret count is simply normal, if not encouraged? What happens if, by a strike of faith, a miracle happens and you come to the point where you receive it all from one? Can you digest it, or does it make you feel (besides everything else) predominantly noxious?

I got out with two friends the other day and despite all my attempts to hide it (why?) they ripped the confession from me.

Hello, my name is Deni and I’m a monogamist.

They both laughed and said that if I put an end to my hunting days, hell will freeze over. Chilly! They meditated upon the idea of being with one and discarded it as unacceptable. As if I was proclaiming using stationary telephones or going to church every Sunday or even worse – wearing purple shiny leggings and listening to Azis! But despite their ‘ I’m so not into monogamy’ speeches, I realized one of them is only capable of talking about her last fuck buddy and the other one stays online in all social communication devises, waiting to be detected by someone. Or so is my suspicion. So why did they felt the urge to convince me I’m a dinosaur if I believe in a uni-person relationship? I looked back and realized I felt that same need a while ago. Seeing one person was so not for me, I needed someone to talk to, someone to make me laugh, someone who listens to the same music, someone to fuck and someone to cuddle. At best, 2 people were sufficient to fulfill those functions.

I’m not converted already; still I am doing my best to unlock my mind for the possibility of a long-term monogamous relationship with someone besides my own self. Damn, even putting it I writing makes the party girl inside of me as scared as Cinderella, who by mistake ended up in a Hickox movie! Although I feel like I have a jar full of ants and I’m about to stick my honey covered finger in it, I try to keep my cool and open up, if only for him to see that I mean well. However the transformation is painful. It was the first time when I turned into a non-believer, what made me think it would be much different this time around? It is like being a chocoholic and waking up with diabetes one morning. You know what you gotta do for your body to be well, but your soul is in constant struggle with your mind on the issue of brownies and mousses. Or on the issue of spending almost every evening together.

I have serious doubts if I should go and post this one. But it’s been a while and putting things in writing usually makes the fog lift and I see things almost clearly. If only I didn’t need glasses…