To the Men

I want to be a man for a day.  Just one, because I don’t think I could stand being in that brain for too long; but there has to be something alien up in there which would explain the strange behavior I see manifesting in the opposite sex. 

I understand that women are complex.  (P.S. This is why men are always trying to get in us.)  But I must be wrong in my experiences with men, because my conclusion is that men are fucking stupid.  They think with their penises, and all they seem to want is mediocrity.  No drama – no fight – no talking. 

Dear men:  Women want a little fight in a man.  I’m not talking about domestic abuse; I’m just talking about desire.  I’m talking about a man who can unabashedly feel emotion and then talk about it.  There’s nothing “gay” about having feelings – it’s called “being alive”.  If I can’t talk to you, well, you’re worthless.  Because part of being alive and being in love is conflict.  Arguments can be productive.  They can allow relationships to grow and flourish.

But…  If you can’t talk … we’re done.  If I wanted to be alone, I’d be alone.  I don’t need to be alone in the same house with someone else.  That sort of defeats the purpose.  And if I don’t want to have sex with you, because I don’t even know who you are anymore … it’s dead.  Stick a fucking fork in it.  I can’t have sex with someone who won’t talk to me; and if I DID want that, it would be a handsome stranger, not someone I had to pick up after. 

Get it? 

So maybe if I had a penis for a day, I could understand this apathetic thing most men have going on which deprives them of having healthy relationships with women. 

Don’t send me suggestive text messages.  Don’t send me naked pictures of yourself.  Don’t try to get me drunk and make lewd suggestions.  Talk to me, and then we’ll see what’s up.