You know what I really can't stand?

Dependant men.

It bugs the living hell out of me when guys become dependant. (Especially when they're me-dependant. I CAN'T SOLVE ALL YOUR DAMN PROBLEMS, OKAY?...some people...)

I like to think of myself as rather...independant. Not completely, unfortunately, but I like to deal with my own problems, and I don't like people helping me if I don't ask for help.

I mean, sometimes help is nice, and the reason I don't ask for help is because I don't know anybody, or I'm barely managing, buuut...

Like if I'm staggering with water buckets at an event, it's nice if a lord comes up to me and helps me.

Something like that.

But if I'm sitting, spinning to my heart's content, peaceful and happy, I do not need someone to come up and hold my wool for me.

It's unnecessary.

I don't mind so much if they ask casually so long as they don't hinder me, or if the wool is on a chair they want to sit on, but frankly, the favour is really unnecessary and petty.

More hindering than anything else.

I don't want a man who has to have my sympathy when ever he stubs his toe.

That bugs me to hell.

Especially since Me and Sympathy aren't getting along right now, and never really have been.

I don't sympathize well.

I hug well.

But I don't sympathize well.

I also hate sappy men.

I hate men who tell me I've made them the happiest they've ever been, because it suggests that they are emotionally and mentally dependant and I have only enough energy to keep my own head and heart stable, much less somebody else's.

I don't want a man bringing me roses for no reason.

I. Don't. Like. That.

Special occasions, sure, if he really wants, but I'll probably just end up eating the roses rather than staring at them wistfully while dreaming about my one true love.

No.

Nada.

Nil.

I don't want a sensitive man.

I don't want a man who cries if I want to spend time with my other friends.

I don't want a man who clings to me like I'll dissapear into smoke if he doesn't hold on tight. I am as spider webs: pretty to look at, pretty to gently touch, but for god's sakes, don't grab! The delicate web took a long time making.

I don't want a boy.

I don't want a man who makes me his life.

I don't want a man who changes to try and fit what I seem to like. Chances are I won't like it because I was interested in what they were before, not what they changed to be.

I don't want a man who can't laugh at himself.

I don't want a man who treats me like glass. I'm not glass. I'm a bit of uneven rock, lodged in the ground. Not perfect, but beautiful in my own unique way. Watch that you don't step on me, but also that you don't trip over me. I can be nice, but I can be rough. It comes with the package.

I don't want to give a man wings and have him soar through the air, because chances are those wings won't be there forever and he will come crashing to the ground. I want to just make him float gently a few inches off the ground, peacefully content.

I don't want a man who won't be rough with me in bed sometimes.

I don't want a man who yells at me. I don't want a man who can't fight using level voices and perfect logic.

I don't want a man who won't accept when he's wrong.

...

I want a man.

I want a man who can deal with his own problems.

I want a man who doesn't mind asking for help when he realizes he needs it.

I want a man who laughs.

I want a man who won't hug me imediately after a fight. That gives me mixed messages and I'll get confused and push away. I want a man who'll wait a while until tempers have cooled, then for no reason kiss me and then squeeze me tightly.

I want a man who doesn't tell me he loves me. That scares the fucking hell out of me. Seriously. My parents don't even tell me they love me. (The 'L' word frightens me even more than needles, docters and hospitals do.) If he wants me to know he loves me he should let me know through deeds, not through words. Words are only flimsy shadows of actions. Don't frighten me away, please.

I want a man with a life of his own, with friends of his own. I don't need to be friends with his best friend. I don't even need to know him. The best friend is not who I want to be with.

I want a man who drinks tea regularely (with or without me).

I want a man who wears the same kind of shoes/boots as me (namely simple and black and lace-up).

I want a man with an eclectic taste in music, who doesn't mind a mix of Celine Dion, Pain, Arrogant Worms and Barry White (who kicks serious ass, just in case you didn't know).

I want a man who values his privacy and who respects mine (which I need a lot of, be warned. In order to stay sane and social and tolerating I need a good quantity of time by myself).

I want a man who doesn't phone me every single day and doesn't mind being apart for short stretches. Rosie doesn't like being fondled all the time, however much she likes the person. Rosie likes her personal space on occasion, too. No crowding for Rosie.

I want a man who respects my Don't Bug Rosie Week which occasionally comes into play when people have been crowding Rosie too much.

I want a man who doesn't mind my obsession with Seven of Nine from Star Trek Voyager (she's hawt, I wanna go to a Trekkie convention dressed like her sometime).

I want a man who can take care of himself, who doesn't want me to baby him.

I want a man who knows himself.

I want a man who is himself.

Go figure.

.

Rosie.

Before&After