About Commitment

I’m a male, my mother gave birth to me in a society that programmed us that love is forbidden, that love is shameful, that being in love is associated with adultery and with angering God.

Early childhood

I remember all my thoughts and feelings towards my female classmates as I was in primary school, how different we are, how smooth their skin and voices were, I remembered that I had this feeling of needing female companionship more than I needed any specific female, I was so young I had no concept of romance,love or sex, I just wanted what I knew from TV I needed; to love someone, maybe those needs were inherent maybe acquired from TV, cartoons or society in general, all of this doesn’t matter, I remember how talking about this with anyone in the age of 9 was either accompanied by either laughs or stern looks followed by the word forbidden/shame (translating this word from my native Arabic is tricky).

First heartbreak

I also remember my first heartbreak, it was at 3rd grade, I was 8 years old and suddenly this female classmate, shows interest in me, holds my hand while going up the stairs, and my ecstasy moment was when one day when she came and confided in me that she went to the bathroom and got totally undressed, she was so excited about being to remove all her clothes and put them back on, so was I.
I just didn’t know why at the time, and then suddenly she stopped talking to me, holding my hands and telling me about her inherent public nudity fetish, when I tried to talk to her, ask her what changed, she was annoyed and asked what do you want from me.

Teenage years

Then came prep school and I was pressured by this same girl (years later, our childish play was forgotten) to date her best friend, which was a good friend of mine but really didn’t fit my criteria of attraction, I was a closed minded idiot back then, but I wanted to have a girlfriend, I wanted to be with someone and get told that I’m loved for the first time ever, so I went through in this “relationship” is the worst boyfriend in the history of boyfriends, I didn’t talk to her for months and I didn’t even bother breaking up with her when my first real girlfriend came.

My first “real” girlfriend

and then the time of secondary school arrived, with more freedom and access to girls not in our school, and then I had my first real girlfriend which was really hot but naive and clumsy. she was really horny though and for the first time ever, I share a bed naked with a girl of my age with the sole purpose of fooling around, I can’t describe the huge amount of shame and guilt that I felt, I can’t count how many times I prayed to god to forgive me and her, and yes , i mentioned her in my prayer because a man has special love for the first person who touches his weiner after his mother and peditrition, to this day i don’t know if my affection for this girl was real because I really had feelings for her or because she was kind enough to put my dick in her mouth and clap her hands like a child every time I agreed to take my pants off for her to do this new sport which she finally got to do in real life, of course, this relatioship went down the drain in a bad way , but this continued my pattern of girls liking me, taking the first step and then dumping me after they’ve had their fun, or maybe I was just a sucky person , I don’t know and I have no idea of knowing since I can’t be objective about this subject in particular.

Later years

Having a taste of female affection was poisonous to me, I really liked the feeling, I really enjoyed her touch and her voice, I really wanted more, being with someone always entrailed promising them eternity, promising to always be in love, promising to be united with them under society’s laws and getting married, I always lied and I always believed my lie, for me I always considered being committed to a single person, but the idea of being only with one person always made me afraid, the thought that I won’t see, touch or know any other woman in a romantic setting was always worse than death.

The mystery of a woman

For me, it was never about sex and about anything but sex; I crave sexual intimacy by design, I was born in a country with no national pride, no national unity, we are all programmed to pursue careers,find a mate and make children, this is the only way a man can belong to something bigger than himself here, or in my direct society, but for me, I worshipped women, I loved how everything about them is smooth, how everything about them is tender, for me it wasn’t about sex, sex can be bought for a price, but what I was after could never be bought, only given, I was after the mystery,how she loves, what she likes, her taste in food and music, how she looks naked and how she makes love to her man, over the years I got sexually involved with more than 50 girls, with every single one of them I tried to do my best, I lied and believed my own lies so that she could believe  and I technically I never lied, I had a deep love for everything female, but I can never be myself if I committed myself to only one.


All through writing this, I’m half tempted to delete it all, I feel like I’m painting myself as a selfish self-centered brat. But the truth is, I’m an individual which can be taken as a random sample out of the crowd, women hate men who think like me, women hate men who keep looking around and can’t be satisfied with only one woman, but how can someone defy his own nature?
How can all women crave only men that are out of the norm, I realize that citing the famous argument that nature crafted men to spread this seed may be naive and even offensive for some, but I’m not after sex or “spreading my seed” I’m more tempted by beauty and more aroused by thoughts, this is why I’m always pursuing the mystery in female form.
I didn’t choose to feel that way, I didn’t choose to think that way and for sure women themselves are not objects or just bystanders in their own romantic lives, I was hurt, I was dumped and I left a ton of details out, but the fact remains, that committing to someone , seeing this face the first thing in the morning for the rest of my life, is too much of a commitment that I’ve always preferred the thought of waking up alone in my own bed than waking up to the face of someone I no longer want to be with.
And while the hopeless romantic in me was peed on by multiple women, I still dream of my “one” the one that would be better than all other women, that will be my enough and mystery solved, but I’m a realist, I know that I may never find her and that still I’ll hurt and get hurt by others but I’ll keep waiting for the one who’ll walk with me to the end of the road.


There is no message here unless you chose to see one, I was just sharing some memories and trying to document my observations to my own experience and feelings which I had no hand in crafting. And I realize that publishing this to my name would significantly lower my chances of ever being with someone again, but I’m taking the chance for the sake of humanity.

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