The Cuddle Conundrum
Not every woman is the right fit for the man in the market for romance. Some are too innocent. Some are vulgar. Some are way too fat, too short, too smart for their own good, or too young. Some don’t mesh with your friends. Some are terrible with their own children. Some hate your family. Others secretly despise you and work earnestly toward your ruin, laughing all the way to the bank. That last one may sound a bit paranoid. But a dude should allow his imagination full reign when considering the possibilities.
On the other hand, the reverse of all the above could be true but equally unacceptable to a guy like me. Some women might be experienced, tempered, proportionate, and just the right height. They may even be great with kids and love your family to a fault. But dammit, what if she doesn’t know how to make French toast? What if she demands too much of your time? What if she, wait for it . . .wants to cuddle? That last one might be concomitant with a heartfelt connection. But dammit, it sets off alarms in my mind!
Maybe I was preordained to be single and detached. To endlessly scour the earth for female companions with intuitive flexibility and a tailored understanding of me. Actually, I prefer this to scavenging for whatever’s leftover from broken marriages or ladies given over to groundless suspicions or fantastic assumptions. Or even worse, those with a sense of entitlement!
But enough of that. Let’s whisper behind the man’s back too. Some men are way too fat, too stupid, too ordinary, too insecure, too short . . .And plenty of men don’t know a good thing when they see one. Like me once upon a time. Like most guys, I thought any gorgeous woman would automatically be a challenge or a game player. Simply because they had other options. That’s where fat girls come in. They get along by scavenging the earth for guys with the kind of low self-esteem that makes us think that way about the innocent gorgeous women.
So, the likelihood of a man and a woman perfectly fit for each other and finding one another at the right time is a challenge. In most situations, people just grudgingly learn to love the subpar loser they’re with and keep scheming until something better comes along. And if and when it does, nobody is sincere about cuddling at this point. At least not for a few years, if the fling plays out that long. Cheaters are too busy probing their new catch for the same quirks and foibles that drove them from their full- time commitments in the first place to summon the unassuming nature required for a satisfying cuddle.
I’ve found that cuddling sucks anyhow. Sometimes you lay there in the same entwined position for hours feeling like if you resist, you’re sending the wrong message. Meanwhile, you can feel her smiling and reading your compromised and thus enfeebled mind. Eventually, your arms go numb, and you definitely won’t be getting quality sleep if any at all. By the time the sun comes up relieving you from your cuddling shift, you damn near hate the woman. And your stomach hurts from holding in those farts all night. Not to mention your breath smells like you’ve been nibbling on an armpit sandwich. I hate cuddling. It’s just a lose-lose situation.
No, but seriously. Contrary to the observations made here, I do believe in true love. And more than one per person for that matter. So, I think one woman can love more than one man. One man can love more than one woman. That’s not anything new. I think the problem starts right at the word “commitment” though. When two people try to force themselves on each other exclusively like rapists and scrupulous opportunists. Don’t get me wrong. I have no fear of commitment. It can’t beat me up or take my life, can it? I have no reason to fear it, so I don’t. I just have no use for it.
Just the other day, I was reminded of why I haven’t found an answer to the problem of who is truly fit to cuddle with. I was crossing a major street in my Queens neighborhood. When I got to the other side, I noticed a crowd gathered in a parking lot. Everyone there was gazing in the same direction. Then I heard screaming. A man was crying out in anguish and emotional distress.
When I reached an appropriate angle to see what was happening, I peeped a five-foot-three-inch girl in her twenties swinging a leather belt while chasing the dumb six-foot tall man. She was whipping him with the metal end of the belt! The man kept screaming, begging for mercy and swearing that he wasn’t cheating. He was a disgrace to all mankind. He didn’t have the guts to at the very least disarm the little girl to stop himself from being physically abused. He was making an ass of himself in public. In the name of love of course. He would be distinguished by this incident for as long as he lived in the neighborhood.
I imagine that just a few nights before, this unassuming man and his hot-tempered girlfriend had been cuddling. Whispering sweet nothings to each other they made love, then fell asleep entwined like two dangerous snakes. The next day one bit the other with the poison of infidelity. And the other struck back with the sweet venom of vengeance. Now they’ve been infected with the idea that maybe they’re not right for each other after all.
So. Two more souls have joined the ranks of desperate people looking for a satisfying cuddle. This goal becomes ever more elusive as sure as more and more people get in bed with others, each harboring polluted ideas about what to expect in a relationship based on a checkered past. Sad, huh?
But. If you ever do get into a full-blown cuddle situation, stay alert men. Make sure you don’t eat anything substantial before you take to the bed. Brush your damn teeth and use Listerine or some other mouth wash just before your shift starts. And hours beforehand prepare an excuse for why you can’t stay one minute longer in the event that an exit becomes absolutely necessary. Once all that’s taken care of? Enjoy the softness, the warmth, the sincerity of the moment, and the innocence. Don’t take it for granted. And in the event the feeling never returns to your arm, I know an excellent physical therapist whose prices are very reasonable. But she’s in the market for a man, and you can see in her sweet brown eyes that she likes to snuggle. She probably has a guilty conscious. That may be why her services are so affordable.
What does any of this have to do with a clean bill of mental health, the usual theme of my posts? I haven’t the slightest idea. Or how does this entry equate to an optimistic perspective? You got me again. I was probably just venting. It’s possible that deep down in my soul, I’m really just a nice guy looking for someone to hug me tight. But I’m too vulnerable, insecure, and walled in to let my guard down long enough for the right ones to scale the wall, drop down on my lawn, open the door to my heart and make themselves at home.
No, I don’t think that’s the answer either. I think I was just poking some fun at the whole cuddle conundrum. And making light of things is in fact good for mental health. So, there!
If you don’t think things are so funny right now though, you can always talk to someone at the Mental Health Hotline by calling 866-903-3787. Or if you feel like a danger to yourself, call 988.