Women want what?

Apologies for my few typographical errors in my last post. I hate myself for it, but I suppose the only thing I can do is move on. We done? We're done. Now ... back to this whole woman thing. And believe me, I love women, I find them superior to men in most ways. I adore women. So, recently there has been one particular girl who drinks in here that I reckon is pretty cute. I regularly sit at my spot at the bar and watch her interact with her friends and I like her style. Aesthestically speaking, you could say she looks Parisian. Not a big nose, but a strong one. A good one. It knows it's there, on her face, but it ain't trying to crash the party. I don't know if I could put it any better. I'm going to segue for a moment - with ease, hopefully. It might be fair to say that I don't particularly like 95% of the population. that might include any one of you, forgive me. I like to think that it's not an intellectual thing. You don't have to be discussing Andrew Upton's updated version of Hedda, nor that Ignatius J (Jacques) Reilly is slothfully intelligent and witty. I am genuinely interested, to put it as plainly as I can, in people who propel me forward in some way, and, just as importantly, lack bullshit, and pretension. I hate parties, and clubs etc, because all I seem to do is walk from person to person having inane conversations about things that I'm not interested in. The night ends with me in the corner, smoking too much, and looking into the bottom of a glass. This is as much my faults as anyone elses. But it's just not my scene. And, obviously, there are exceptions to every rule. What is my point? Something very interesting happened. In my search to find A DECENT FUCKING THERAPIST I wrote a text to another one of my fucked up, drug addled friends, and it went something like this. 'I am fucking miserable at the moment. Can you send me the number of that therapist you see?' And I'm okay, this ain't a cry for help, but this girl had just sent me a text, and instead of sending it to my friend, I sent it to her. THIS WAS NOT A PLOY. Why would it be? Surely a pathetic 'help me, I'm so sad' text is highly unattractive. Not so. This woman that I had texted to get her along to the show was then umm ... maternal, I suppose, in a very sexy way. She sat with me all night patting my arm, taking me to sneak into the Fitzroy Pool, and then came upstairs to help me sew buttons on to my bed linen. (Which I am quite capable of doing myself, by the way.) We have had a wonderful night. Albeit based around my rather pathetic accidental text error, but then she tells me she has a boyfriend. A little shock, I have to say, but at the same time, I don't think she has broken any rules here. She was looking after me, she was 'reaching out'. I felt a pang, a little hurt, but I'm a big enough man to deal with that. Some high profile bloggers might tell you otherwise, and I'll wear that too. I have many hats. The following evening, the texts me. She asks me if I would like to drink red wine with 2 wonderfully attractive women. WOULD I? But I didn't reply, because I could feel myself falling for my Little Arc de Triomphe, so I thought it best to keep my distance. For my sanity. I then receive a phone call. It's her name on the screen, but it's her friend. She says. '**** wants you to come over?' Then there is a prodding sound in the background. **** has poked her friend for saying what she said. 'Ouch' The girl says. I once again decline, saying that I am having a beer at the Builders, and I am entrenched in my pint. So they join me. the friend leaves and I am once again joined by my friend upstairs, for talking. Which is great. The same the next night. Text. She joins me at the bar, and come with me upstairs. So, I so very casually broached the subject. I swear it was casual. There was a pre-cursor and everything. 'I don't want to make a big deal out of this but, we have been spending quite a bit of time together - I find you attractive - I understand you're taken. She denies everything, says that it's nice to have neighbours, nice to have friends that are boys, there's no crush here, nothing going on. And I accept this. Graciously. I wouldn't want to sleep with her. I don't want to become a fuck up in her 4 year relationship. Nor do I want to catch her on the rebound. Not that I haven't done it before ... I just don't want to do it again. No fun in that, is there? I guess the real problem here is that I have grown fond of her. She gets the friendship, (as do I) but she gets more than that as well. I don't know. This isn't a blame thing. No one's right, no one's wrong as is often the case. It's confusing though, isn't it? These things called emotions. Is it me? Do I want to hurt myself? If so, why? And how do I stop it?