Romance, misery, crushes, etc.
Mar. 5th, 2003 09:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
electriclandLargely self-centred rambling follows.
Many of my friends appear to be going through some kind of romantic trauma at the moment. Which made the following pop up in my head (doncha hate that?).
I would love to be the kind of person who can leap into a relationship without having it have to All Mean Something. Many people of my acquaintance seem to date easily, indeed effortlessly; if they break up with someone they have no problems finding another likely prospect. They, unlike me, don't appear to be holding out for their One True Love, Soulmate, Whatever.
It's not that I want to be so bloody picky. It would even be nice to be able to have no-strings sex. It really would. I just don't seem able to manage it.
Does anyone else out there have trouble getting their brain and their hormones lined up in the same direction? I do. Enormous trouble. Lots of days I'm all keen to jump some nice-looking boy, then I discover we have nothing to talk about, the brain exercises its veto, and we don't go there any more. Or I'll meet a guy that I can gab to by the hour, but in the unlikely event that he's available, the hormones just aren't interested. On the very rare occasions that brain and hormones cooperate, their object generally isn't interested. At least I seem to have finally learned (late) not to leap into things because I'm flattered by the attention or because I need a man and I'm not paying enough attention. (Moral high ground, restraint, dignity, etc., all good -- unfortunately, very little sex.)
I'm not sure how it's possible that all of the above can be true of the same person, but such is the case.
My last major painful embarrassing crush lasted almost two years and actually started off as brain, no hormones, see above. Liked the accent (Irish), enjoyed the company, but no attraction at all. Then one day after I'd known and worked with him about 6 months he changed his glasses and I noticed that I really liked the way his hair grew down to a point at the nape of his neck and that was it. I started going weak at the knees when I heard his voice (and believe me, when your desk is next to his, that's often). I lusted. A lot. Especially while drinking with him, which usually involved singing with him once we'd got enough Sleeman's into us. Don't know how well I concealed this from the raft of co-workers and friends that were usually around. But anyway.
The thing is, it wasn't just lust, or I didn't think it was at the time. I wanted to be with him, hang out, go for walks, watch videos, talk, laugh, be affectionate, neck, the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing. I won't go into gory details about how everything panned out. Suffice it to say, I'm sure to no-one's surprise, that we did not become an item.
What I remember most vividly about the whole sorry business, though, is how one evening he told me about his friendship with/attraction to another girl (also a co-worker), how well they got on, how they could talk on the phone basically forever. It was so agonizingly painful to know that he'd rather be spending time with someone else than with me, that some other girl had that mental connection I wanted. I was jealous as hell, and miserable -- one night they came to a company hockey game together, having been somewhere else first, and I left when the game was over and went home and cried half the night. I'd listen to the intimate tone of his voice talking to friends on the phone and be nearly paralyzed with longing. Illogical? Stupid? You betcha. I told myself that at the time, but it didn't remotely help.
In the interests of full disclosure... the lust was acted on. A few times. I really don't recommend getting drunk with the guy you have a crush on and convincing yourself that either (a) this time will be The Time He Sees The Light or (b) you can just bounce back from this one, it's just sex, you're a grown-up, you're over him... it does not work at all well, or at least it didn't for me.
The good news? I've recovered. I really have. It took a long time (two YEARS? what was I thinking?) and it's taken me a while to realize it, but I'm cured. (The bad news? I'm BLOODY SINGLE with no immediate prospects. Spring must be nigh if this is a concern. Ah well.)
But does everyone go through this from time to time? Or is it me? I mean, does every hemi-demi-semi relationship mean I have to agonize like it's the end of the bloody world? And if so, why? And even if it doesn't, why do I always have to think everything to death?
I think I still have a ways to go in my psychosexual development. But I'm working on it.
Many of my friends appear to be going through some kind of romantic trauma at the moment. Which made the following pop up in my head (doncha hate that?).
I would love to be the kind of person who can leap into a relationship without having it have to All Mean Something. Many people of my acquaintance seem to date easily, indeed effortlessly; if they break up with someone they have no problems finding another likely prospect. They, unlike me, don't appear to be holding out for their One True Love, Soulmate, Whatever.
It's not that I want to be so bloody picky. It would even be nice to be able to have no-strings sex. It really would. I just don't seem able to manage it.
Does anyone else out there have trouble getting their brain and their hormones lined up in the same direction? I do. Enormous trouble. Lots of days I'm all keen to jump some nice-looking boy, then I discover we have nothing to talk about, the brain exercises its veto, and we don't go there any more. Or I'll meet a guy that I can gab to by the hour, but in the unlikely event that he's available, the hormones just aren't interested. On the very rare occasions that brain and hormones cooperate, their object generally isn't interested. At least I seem to have finally learned (late) not to leap into things because I'm flattered by the attention or because I need a man and I'm not paying enough attention. (Moral high ground, restraint, dignity, etc., all good -- unfortunately, very little sex.)
I'm not sure how it's possible that all of the above can be true of the same person, but such is the case.
My last major painful embarrassing crush lasted almost two years and actually started off as brain, no hormones, see above. Liked the accent (Irish), enjoyed the company, but no attraction at all. Then one day after I'd known and worked with him about 6 months he changed his glasses and I noticed that I really liked the way his hair grew down to a point at the nape of his neck and that was it. I started going weak at the knees when I heard his voice (and believe me, when your desk is next to his, that's often). I lusted. A lot. Especially while drinking with him, which usually involved singing with him once we'd got enough Sleeman's into us. Don't know how well I concealed this from the raft of co-workers and friends that were usually around. But anyway.
The thing is, it wasn't just lust, or I didn't think it was at the time. I wanted to be with him, hang out, go for walks, watch videos, talk, laugh, be affectionate, neck, the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing. I won't go into gory details about how everything panned out. Suffice it to say, I'm sure to no-one's surprise, that we did not become an item.
What I remember most vividly about the whole sorry business, though, is how one evening he told me about his friendship with/attraction to another girl (also a co-worker), how well they got on, how they could talk on the phone basically forever. It was so agonizingly painful to know that he'd rather be spending time with someone else than with me, that some other girl had that mental connection I wanted. I was jealous as hell, and miserable -- one night they came to a company hockey game together, having been somewhere else first, and I left when the game was over and went home and cried half the night. I'd listen to the intimate tone of his voice talking to friends on the phone and be nearly paralyzed with longing. Illogical? Stupid? You betcha. I told myself that at the time, but it didn't remotely help.
In the interests of full disclosure... the lust was acted on. A few times. I really don't recommend getting drunk with the guy you have a crush on and convincing yourself that either (a) this time will be The Time He Sees The Light or (b) you can just bounce back from this one, it's just sex, you're a grown-up, you're over him... it does not work at all well, or at least it didn't for me.
The good news? I've recovered. I really have. It took a long time (two YEARS? what was I thinking?) and it's taken me a while to realize it, but I'm cured. (The bad news? I'm BLOODY SINGLE with no immediate prospects. Spring must be nigh if this is a concern. Ah well.)
But does everyone go through this from time to time? Or is it me? I mean, does every hemi-demi-semi relationship mean I have to agonize like it's the end of the bloody world? And if so, why? And even if it doesn't, why do I always have to think everything to death?
I think I still have a ways to go in my psychosexual development. But I'm working on it.
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Re: ~blushes~
Date: 2003-03-06 10:22 am (UTC)But anyway, to your point... YES! EXACTLY! Need rules! Rules would help so much. Or at least, some sort of guarantee that everyone is playing on more or less the same page.
Although there was heartbreak and misery and anguish and whatnot 50 and 200 and 2000 years ago too, so who knows?
And don't worry, I'm fine now. (This is why I'm so pleased!) This post was truly more retrospective than anything else. Think how valuable it all would be if I was writing much these days.