(I have decided to use a different style as I guest write for Epi. Check out my own blog for my usual pedantic ramblings.)
SO I am spending some time with a man. I have grown fond of this man and like being around him. He is helping me let go of some past expectations/illusions/delusions. And though I proclaim to be a liver of the moment he is so much better at living the moment then I could ever be. My brain has a wee-bit-o-problem turning off.
For the first two weeks there was the euphoria of newness. I think the word is CRUSHIN. His name is Simon. He says he is CRUSHIN too. I think that is what makes this grin slide across my face. Requited affection - gotta like it. I may be in jeopardy of losing my acerbic edge. The horror the horror!!
Two samples of incredibly romantic or cheesy dialogue uttered in the last 53 days (a wild guess).
***********
Joshua: You have a perma-grin.
Simon: What’s that?
Joshua: You have a permanent smile on your face as if you are smiling from your heart.
Simon: So do you.
Joshua: I guess we are both extremely happy with where we happen to find ourselves at this point in time.
Simon: I guess we are.
***********
Joshua: You are so cute.
Simon: You are.
Joshua: You are so adorable.
Simon: But that’s you though.
**********
Joshua: I feel the need to ravage you severely.
Simon: Then don’t let me stop you from meeting your needs.
******
Joshua: I keep smiling a lot lately. Walking around with a grin on my face.
Simon: Its called a “shit eating grin”. I have one too.
******
Now though I find myself attracted to this person I find I do not have that gut wrenching passion for him. I don’t emotionally or intellectually get off on this person. The first couple of weeks le papillon de l’amour were doing their thing but they quickly fluttered away. Fickle ‘flies. You know the nervousness in the tummy when I think of him.
We are kind, considerate, caring, sexy. Maybe how I define passion for a man is changing and all the craziness of youth is replaced by a more realistic view. I’ve been in love many times and had my heart broken, reassembled, and broken hearts. I have absolutely no idea what the hell I am trying to convince myself of. I need to stop thinking and just be and let it run where it may. Great advice to give but a bitch to follow.
4 comments:
the butterflies are really fun. the passion is fun. but it can only last so long. the truth is, that unbelieveable passion, it takes a hell of a lot of energy. so really, it's more important that you still enjoy it when the passion isn't as predominant.
i'm not knockin' passion, i'm just saying that not having butterflies is not actually a bad thing.
You "proclaim to be a liver"? I am a kidney...Sorry I just had too.
Anyhow, I hear what you are saying. The man I have been seeing for 4 months is somewhat similar. He isn't quite what I expected and the butterfiles and passion were all there until this past Monday night when I saw a different side of him, that unfortunately built a wall of doubt around me. Granted, that this defense mechanism is childlike, I am still working to resolve it.
What i am trying to say is, enjoy what you have and play with it. Don't take this the wrong way, but I doubt that many people you meet would quite match your intellect or spiritualness. That is a hard thing to find, but it doesn't mean that it won't happen at some point during the relationship. I suppose you just have to have faith and try.
Now if only I can walk the walk.
BTW: I kinda like this less cordial/formal style. It's a different pair of jeans on you and it fits.
Butterflies are fun. I wish I had someone who did that to me at the same time I did that to them. sigh.
And walking the walk is definitely hard. I find casting away my doubts makes this easier; not that casting away doubts is easy either. Well, that proves it, nothing is easy.
EPI! glad to see my "oh ain't I so clever word play" was not wasted. The noun being so important for the metabolising of so much of life guck and definitely dealing with the shit we put in our bods "every moment". As for the jeans they are fun to wear but doing naratives and autopsies on my life wears thin on the personal enjoyment level. I bore me repeating my life.
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