Hello strangers of the interwebz. I am not dead, let’s get that out of the way first so that you won’t mistake me for a vengeful spirit that has come back and haunt the unsuspecting.
… Or am I!?
I am not.
Last time I tried to dabble on relationships in a meaningful, yet in a very arbitrary way, I was sick. So I am sorry to inform you that I am sick once more, so it is only reasonable of me to continue this tradition. On Valentines day.
Not much has changed in my life since the last time I wrote about relationships and how people willingly make it difficult for themselves and their significant others by requiring the other people to know something that they can not, by not stating their intentions or desires clearly, in an honest and open way. But rather succumb to silence and making the other person feel like the culprit to their own apparent, or unapparent misery or feeling of self-doubt. I also defended the naturalness of one night stands between two consenting adults who know the meaning of that occurrence to either party. If you didn’t decipher the reason for it yet, it was because I had recently had a one night thing with someone and it was quite refreshing to know exactly what that meant for both parties. It was just that.
Now, before you think that it is a frequent incident for me, do not. Because it is not. That was the first time it had happened, and if it is in my power, I’d like to keep it as the last one too. If you think that I am some player, do not. Because I am not. It was the last time I got to experience fornication (probably because I insist on using these kinds of words), albeit I do like to count on the odds that it is not the last time.
Now, before you feel sorry for me, do not. Because - well - why would you, really? If you think it’s pathetic, I won’t argue against it, but would rather question your priorities. The true reason for that is I don’t really care about it - Sex. It has never been, and if I may already predict (as my years as a young adult slowly but surely wane away), never will be important to me. It has never been any kind of ‘destination’ or desire of mine, when forming a new relationship with someone I have fond feelings for. For me the biggest driving force in wanting to get to know someone is intellectual connection. I have lost myself a few times to having strong feelings toward someone unattainable (relationship-wise) just because of the possibility of having that intellectual bond with another person. But more often the connection just is not there, and I lose interest in dedicating my time (and thus requiring their time in return) to something which won’t eventually stand a chance, because of me. So for me to allow anything sexual - in the aspiring relationship before that intellectual covenant, or it’s significant potential, is there - to happen, it won’t, and it has not happened.
And although I’ve made, or at least have tried to make, as clear as possible to the other person in those situations, when I’ve had to abandon the possibility that might have seemed more potential to the other person, it has never gone down well. I know why it is that way, but when I reason it to myself, I don’t understand who would object to that kind of honesty, and hold it against me after. Maybe the feel of deserving more from the time they invested, looking forward to physically advancing in a more serious connection, just to be told that it is better not to. It would just make it more complicated afterwards, even though this way it might leave unanswered questions for them, despite of my best efforts to justify, or to convey my inaction to words.
It is hard for me to explain the “connection” that I feel - and it is “I” who feel - or don’t feel toward someone, it doesn’t happen often. But when it does…
That’s why the feel of disappointment for me is so hard to overcome. That’s the reason why I spend my days dreaming. Why I find it so hard to show how I truly feel. How much I am willing to give, because that is the only thing I wish for.
For to have someone to fall next to at night, and feel good about it, while laying there. And to wake up in the morning next to that same person, and still feel good about it, because you know you can repeat it again when the day draws to a close.
This is me. Maybe when this fever goes away I can wonder what madness drove me into writing this.
But is it really honesty to fall into silence?