Friday, July 3, 2009

Make believe that nothing's real...

It started with a conversation this morning with my brother. He wants to bang the girl at my work, at least in some fantastical, pseudo-real way. He likes to talk about it, anyway.

And we were talking, and the conversation revolved around until it rested on the point that it's useless to want things like that, because in the end, they aren't worth it. That instantaneous, superfluous feeling of wanting someone based on physical appeal doesn't go as far as people think it does. At least, it doesn't if you actually have a soul.

I've wanted people like that, and it feels more like dread than lust the more it develops. You want to get off, to possess an appearance; to relish a body. It doesn't last that long when you despise the person's soul, and it feels even worse when they are more indifferent than ambivalent or attracted. The strongest want is towards yourself, you want to please yourself by having a tight body to fuck.

All of the attractions in my life like that ended with emptiness. Physicality doesn't get me very far. Far more important is the mind and the thoughts that circulate therein. In a mate, that is what I look for more than anything. So, for me to feel not like I am sated or satisfied, nor content, but related to, connected to... is a whole other thing entirely.

I've never felt that way in a relationship. I've wanted things to work, I've wanted things to end, I've wanted desperately to see someone again. I've never felt calm and secure, and felt as though I could plan a future with another person before. My real, primal animal sense of nesting, of mating and settling down... that has never really activated before. I've played house, but never actually wanted it.

And I feel that, now. Although I am not the greatest breadwinner or the most competent mate, I want it and I may want it forever.

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