To Dodge a Male's Touch

            Sometimes we have to choose between integrity and our wanton desires, and that certain decision that we’d make would utterly determine our level of stupidity. I have been single for about thirteen months now, so you can infer that I have already been desperately craving for a lover. Of course I’m not as slutty as you think – I just want to have someone of the opposite sex to go on fun dates, like any typical teenage girl would want.

            It’s beautiful how completely different were the two sexes made by God, and at the same time how they perfectly complement each other like the Chinese concept of yin and yang. It’s wonderful how we are wired biologically to get attracted to the species of the opposite sex, that sometimes, if the mind is not guarded, we could accidentally drift into reveries of carnal lust. With our generation now being so modern and liberal, it wouldn’t already surprise us when we learn that our common friends in Facebook who enjoy showcasing pictures of PDA alone in their rooms have been committing countless times acts of fornication. Sometimes, couples strolling in the parks trigger feelings of jealousy in single people like me, but I guess I’m better off this way. I know that these young couples are unconsciously destroying their youthful lives anyway.

            I have reflected on how silly young relationships are, which really deserve to be called puppy love, because until the male and female are fully ready – equipped with wisdom, physical maturity (yes, I’m referring to the beautifully sculpted bodies of people on their twenties), financial stability, and guidance of the Lord, the shallowness and childishness of people would eventually lead their special friendships to breakups. Young couples just go with the desires of their hearts, mistaking attraction as love, and delving into forbidden intimacy because of mere curiosity. The hallowed cave to the woman’s womb gets defiled sooner, which also puts filth to the soul. The bodies are as fruits that get rotten before they even ripen. The accumulated love in the heart which is supposedly for the chosen one by the Creator, who knew beforehand who our other halves are, are lessened each time we jump from one lover to another. It’s a bit hard to admit that our elders are often right, especially when they say that there’s no need to rush because love comes at the right time.

            I just pondered on how ridiculous it is to have your parents worry about where to get large amounts of money to feed you and pay for your tuition fees while you worry about your clothes, skin, pimples, scent, and how to get your own boyfriend. Some people who have no long term goals in life worry daily about all these frivolity. Admittedly, when I was still in high school, I was fanatical about destiny, soul mates and all these love shit. After being tired of getting these silly heartaches and having given by God more than a year of being single to reflect on what to really do with my life, I realized that men are just humans blessed with holy swords that can harm you. Coming in contact with them would impregnate you with their little devices called penises. Guys around my age are just little boys with manly bodies. They don’t really know what they want. Trusting your whole being with boys still stuck in immature ages would only lead to remorse. If there is one man whom we should build an intimate relationship with at this age and time, it is Jesus.

            There cannot be a complete existence of beauty in union between the man and the woman until they’ve grown to the age especially designated for intimacy and sexual reproduction. While we still have some strange feelings felt in the presence of any member of the opposite sex (esp. an attractive one), it is normal and hormonal. We don’t have to follow our hearts always because hearts don’t think. Any man with overflowing masculinity can attract any feminine woman, especially a frail and vulnerable one, but we don’t always have to act upon our feelings. Even a criminal can pass your standards for a romantic mate by being accidentally handsome and masculine. Love is not just all about attraction. It is a divine thing; it is something that brings bliss to the soul, and not satisfaction to the body. Anyone can give you bodily pleasure, but someone has to be exceptionally special to touch your heart.

            There is a right time for everything, and everything can be tested through time. Being pleased by a man’s single touch and instantly giving in to the whims of the moment is filthy. A lovely maiden in the sight of God is not one to do these things of superficiality in nature. Being given these bodies as the temple of the Holy Spirit, we should be clean inwardly and outwardly and save ourselves for someone or something that’s worth waiting. I don’t hate men, but I’ve realized that at this young age, I think I should just treat them as butterflies flying around and landing on attractive flowers. I shall be one of those lovely flowers someday for I’m still a bud right now, and I’d be glad to let one of them suck my nectar forever. 

Bathtub Caress

            I was facebooking and someone very special messaged me. He apologized for ignoring me because he had to focus on his studies. It was a very lame excuse, I thought; nevertheless, it felt good that he apologized. I don’t demand anything from men anyway – it’s just the communication that’s very essential to me. Not having talked to me for quite a long time, even sending me a short and insignificant piece of note already pleased my gloomy heart.

            Then all of a sudden, I found myself in a very complex apartment. It had no uniform design – in one corner the walls were made of gold, and in another corner the walls were made of glass. It also had myriad stairways, elevators, and escalators. The physical appearance of the place is somehow vague in my mind, but I remember clearly that my purpose there was to search for the guy whom I was talking about earlier. I could hear his voice ordering me to find him but I couldn’t tell in what direction his voice came from. I tried using all of the stairways, escalators, and elevators that I could see; I have met many strangers but he isn’t one of them. I don’t know how I came to know that some people I’ve met there were talking about him, and that some of them know him personally. I also felt in my heart that he was near, and that he was waiting for me to come like a damsel in distress waiting for her prince charming. I also couldn’t believe how gender roles have switched in such a very short time. 

            I tried asking people where he was. I went wherever they pointed their fingers but they kept on pointing the wrong directions. However, I couldn’t hear the mysterious voice anymore. I was only pretending that someone was still trying to encourage me to go on and find him. I hunted and hunted for the fucking boy, until I decided to start at the bottommost part of the building. And – hooray! I found him there, standing, like a damned soul burning in a pit of hell. He wasn’t very excited to see me, and we just actually exchanged casual hi’s. What a great way to greet someone you haven’t seen for a long time! It felt like I’ve perspired for nothing. 

            Then suddenly, I found myself inside a bathtub, greedily holding his godlike body. We talked about the feelings we had which we weren’t able to say when we first met. We held each other like we’d never again let go. We were both naked and covered with soap suds. I felt like Cleopatra embracing my Mark Antony. It was really blissful: getting to touch every skin cell of his bronze physique and having him touch me back with his gentle fingers. Sometimes he was kissing my neck; other times I was pecking on his handsome face. I remember seeing clearly his strong neck while he was muttering in pleasure. I remember telling my diary a year ago that the attraction between us was so intense even though we just started to know each other, but little did I know that it was this kind of attraction. 

            Being chaste but curious, I took the opportunity to take a look at his holy sword. I looked down on his groin and cleared the soap suds and – voila! It wasn’t the size of a pinkie – it was one-third of my pinkie! Oh my goodness. But yes, it was cute, like that of a baby. Clearly I was disappointed, so I woke up with a grumpy expression. I was late for my eight-thirty class.
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