Seductive Profile

I have received no response to letters to Valmont yet. Perhaps, I do not tickle his fancy but I suspect (which is oftentimes the case) that he is still trying to figure out what to make of me.

In the meantime, I have followed his writings. He certainly had time to compose lengthy posts in the forum and although with each writing, he reveals more and more of himself. I find that I can idealize him more when I do not know too much about him. When you order a gourmet meal, you'd like it to come to you hot, garnished and plated. That is the point of fine dining. I don't want to stand around in the kitchen watching the chefs whip it up.

Aside from that, I've been trying to figure out my seductive profile. I am a natural, first and foremost. A dandy, second, interspersed with a bit of the coquette, and a Siren when it comes to matters beyond closed doors. My seductive charm with the opposite sex revolves around the Madonna/Whore ideal and when men are faced with someone childlike enough to emanate innocence, corrupted enough to stir their loins and their imagination, nurturing enough to mother them and artistic and spiritual enough to embody their lofty ideals, they are often at a loss as to how to proceed. I have seen this in their eyes. The confusion and desire. They do not know if they want to protect me or ravage me, worship me or discard me, possess me or set me free. As if any wrong move on their part will destroy what they have cherished from afar for so long.

My rake, on the other hand, is a disappointed dreamer first and foremost. He copes with this by being an exotic fetishist but that is merely his avenue of escape. He further reinforces this with the rake persona which is, in my opinion, still half baked because he cannot bring himself to fully go all out with a woman especially since he knows how easily he crashes and burns.

Thailand and its scores of cheap pussy presented itself to him during the time when he was getting a divorce. I suspect that he gave a lot of himself into his marriage and the certainty of knowing that, despite this, it wasn't enough has stamped failure all over his romantic persona. He needed distance and objectification in order to cope. After all, what value could there be in someone/something so easily disposable and replaceable?

My analogy is this. Suppose you're a painter and you've spent a couple of years on what you thought would be your "masterpiece". You give as much of yourself into it as you could give because not only do you want your art to make a statement to the world; you also want it to be personal. It's time for your exhibit and after a harrowing experience at the hands of the critics and art patrons, it's a flop. This thing that you thought you did so well at turned out to be something that you did not know how to do at all. But what do you do when it's the only thing you know how to do for a living? You still paint. In fact, you paint more. You trivialize the effort that you've put into your masterpiece saying it was "nothing". You do it all the time anyway. It's not a big deal.

Well, that may be so except that you'd be shortchanging yourself. Will it take somebody else to get you out of that funk? Perhaps. Will that person be me? I don't know. Do I want that person to be me? The nurturer in me makes it difficult for me to turn my back on this one. But let me think about it first. I have the time.