On desiring, being desired

Some quick thoughts on me:

1) I want. I like. I picked the name “N. Likes” sort of happenstance-ly (see a post to come on just how I did). But it’s true. I like. A lot. And I want. A lot.

2) I’ve recently been learning something most men worth their salt learn in their teens. Desperation isn’t sexy. Unavailability, indifference, is. I’ve watched V be pursued by two guys recently, and each has pursued her in a way entirely unfamiliar to me. By, essentially, letting her twist in the wind, wondering if they’re interested in her, wondering what they want of her, with her. (It’s nice, for me, that she seems not to want much of/with them, but that’s another story.) It’s simply unimaginable to me, the seemingly chill way in which they’re interacting (or not interacting) with her. Me, I’d be all over her. I wouldn’t be able to wait a day, wouldn’t allow a voicemail to go unanswered, a text to go un-responded to.

3) And, from the opposite side: I want to be wanted, to be desired. But, as I’ve written, not too much. On another day, I’ll examine the whys and wherefores of this a bit. But for now, suffice it to say, I think that part of what is most exciting for me about being desired is not the fact of being desired, but the moment at which I learn that I’m desired. So if that moment can be repeated over and over, so much the better. The thin line here is that in order for that to work, there needs at least to be the constant possibility that I’m not desired. But never the reality of my not being desired. That’s a pretty tough baby to split.


  1. “I’ve recently been learning something most men worth their salt learn in their teens. Desperation isn’t sexy. Unavailability, indifference, is.”
    I’ve recently been learning something I should have learned in my teens. That any man can be unavailable and indifferent, I’d throw in ‘detached’ too. It makes them fucking unpleasant and boring and I deserve better. If I can’t have better then thanks all the same I can do without. It’s not about a man seeming desperate as the only alternative. It’s about him being considerate, empathetic, emotionally mature and confident in who he is and what he wants. And I know, it’s a tall order. Fussy me.

    1. Right. I’m just saying, that as between desperation and indifference, indifference is sexier. Not that honest, open, communicative interest isn’t sexy….

      1. Or perhaps neither are sexy. You don’t seem to consider that possibility. There is a balance. Somewhere in between is want and need. Both are sexy. The honesty needed to openly acknowledge and express them is sexy. The vulnerability of a person who is that honest, is sexy. To me, anyways.

  2. Well I suppose I am an exception to that concept. What floats my boat is when there is no ambivalence. When they make no bones about it – they want me, think of me. It’s easy to put some one off my radar if I don’t think I’m on theirs. If they let me know they are thinking about my, desire me, that much hotter than take me or leave me.

    1. I’ll have more to say about this, but there’s a distinct difference between what you describe – wanting, thinking of… – and what I’m alluding to, which is NEEDING. NEEDING isn’t actually sexy. Almost ever.

  3. I’m with Eva here. I want to know what’s on a man’s mind. No games. No doubts. If I think or feel he’s not interested then I quickly remove myself from his life. The last place I want to be is where I’m not wanted.

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