Men...

So here's my thing...I absolutely love, and I mean love men in uniform. And not mall cops or home-owners association security guards, but actual men in uniform. Can't help it. But the best part of the whole thing is that while they are usually the best at their chosen profession, and can usually fix everything...they are also the biggest Peter Pans on the planet. They have the strangest, insecure, and yet, Alpha male thing I have ever seen. I have no clue why that is so attractive. It might have something to do with the fact that I don't want a man who talks about his feelings. No share time, no bull-crap about how you need to let me know your inner most thoughts. No, you don't. Once the bounds of our relationship are established, I mostly just want to hear, "I love you," or some variant thereof to confirm that I am loved, and that's it. If I ask if my ass looks fat in something, tell me the truth. I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to know. Go play poker with your friends, watch football on Sunday, tinker in the garage...as long as you fix things when they break, are home for dinner, play with our kids, and we can screw like crazy whenever we like...I'm pretty much good. If you want to go out and screw some other woman, we're done. No forgiveness and no take backs. I think I love those men in uniforms because they denote a certain rigidity of personality that lends itself to stability and dependability and predictability. I don't want to have to try and figure out who you are going to be today, and if I know some basic things about you, I won't have to. Honor, integrity, loyalty. That's all that I need. Seems like a reasonable request.