Girl Gone Wild: Searching between the extremes

By Loki Ferris

Loki,

You're not the only one who feels that a person leaving someone for someone else is dumb. I think there is something called emotional distance or latitude--a period where you give yourself time. I've been lucky to go out with some amazing women, because I learned different things from all of them, but I also needed time to sort out my issues.

I'll tell you this: I think being in a committed relationship is a great thing. I like the idea of saying, "Look, I know you have your own life and all, but I have your back, and I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." It's great to know that you're saying that to one person, not a parade of women. When she smiles back at you, and she truly will, you'll know that you said something to make her tremble, and more importantly, she knew you meant it.

In this "supersize it" society where everything has to be now, your fear is a truth, about labels. I think you're right on the money. But it's very possible that you can still get hurt, just as bad if not worse, by the idea of noncommitment. Like you said, if it's agreed upon by two people it's kind of different, but if you said to me, hey, let's keep this thing without commitment, I would shrug and then be like, "Yeah, okay, but you know I dig you."

So what does it all mean? Just that there are great people everywhere. There are men who are cool and sexy with an edge but are intelligent. They like to spend time in bookstores for something new to read, and see what women are reading too. How do I know? Because I'm one of those guys. LOL. Great column, be safe.

Dear J.:

Wow, let me pick myself up off the floor. There, that's better. I was compelled to write back to you, J., because I agree with everything you said. You make a lot of sense. There's just something so damn sexy about a man who goes off to do his thing and I'm left without a doubt in my mind that he is just as loyal, if not more, to me. It used to excite me, when I was married, when men flirted with me--just knowing that I could have them; that satisfied my curiosity. That is true power and integrity--to know what you're capable of but you make a conscious decision not to do it. Plus the fact that it becomes the grand complication to keep up such relationships, and we as humans are supposed to be more evolved than the Jack Russell Terrier that humps your friend's leg, your stuffed animals and the small child who lingers a moment too long in front of your mailbox.

It was getting kind of emotionally stuffy in here, this four-chambered medieval torture device known as my heart. At times it's as if I have this little Rubik's Cube inside me all figured out, and when I don't, I fake it by peeling and rearranging all the little colored stickers. And just when I've chucked it out the window because it requires too much thought, there is a man who picks it up and--voila!--he manages to put the puzzle together without moving the stickers and nonchalantly hands it back to me.

So, why is it that I feel like Pinhead from Hellraiser with the little cube in my hands just waiting for all hell to break loose, saying "It's time to play!" while gritting my teeth? My guess is that I'm just not ready. Men my age or older are ready to settle down. Younger guys want to party all the time and their attention spans are minute. I've come to accept this. I figure somewhere in between the two extremes is where I'll probably get stuck. But as my friend Lydia tells me: "You'll know it when it happens. You won't want for more..." But I am a maximizer, and it will take a man just like me or totally opposite of me to give her dictum some credence.

Until then, note to self: Hang out at Barnes & Noble more often. LOL.

E-mail your comments and questions to loki@lasvegasmercury.com.