Love Is SOOO Damn Scary!

I have a confession to make.
I'm commitment-phobic.

Yes, I have a morbid fear of committed relationships- serious relationships, if you will. The demands of each significant other knowing each others' secrets; and on occasion, changing habits. And don't forget, if you stay long enough, you may feel that noose around your neck called "let's get engaged." Or worse, "marry me, or else."

"Look, hon, I love you, but not enough to marry you. I gotta hit the road before the pressure gets to me."

I know the marriage vows say 'for better or for worse', but considering my marital history, I'd prefer to just stay out of the sea called marriage. Instead, I'll just see different women- preferably in different cities (and I'd better add in 'different states' to that...even 'different countries' sounds nice...)- engaging what Dan Savage, Savage Love columnist (and editor of the Seattle Stranger, sister publication of the Portland Mercury) calls NSA sex- NO STRINGS ATTACHED!

I wrote several articles ago about being held harmless of what happens after the act/one-night stand, etc. ends. You know, if the bitch is pregnant, I don't know anything about it. Kind of like that disclaimer in Mission: Impossible that says, "Should you or any member of your IMF team get captured or killed, the secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions." That's me right there. Should the bitch get preggers after I leave, I have absolutely no knowledge. For all I know, she's carrying someone else's child.

BUT WHAT IF I DO WANT A SERIOUS RELATIONSHIP?
Then, son, you'd better know what the hell you're getting into. After all, like I said, being in a relationship is like being under a microscope, every fucking day and night! "where you've been?" "Who's that bitch you were talking to?" What's that perfume I smell?"

See where I'm going with this?

It's better for me to have several women on the side, with no strings attached. Of course, I can always get new babes just in case the ones I have are, well, unavailable. After all, I have my car, a full tank of gas, and an entire weekend to just party. After all, life's a bit too short to just cry over some barstool, filling my beer with tears.

Copyright 2007, by Darren W. Alexander. All Rights Reserved.