All-out, all-in, open-armed, open-hearted, confident in the possibility that this could be wonderful.
This is mostly why the two-weekers that I was so good at in the past. Or even the couple of intense month-long involvements. Not because I was bad at caring about people, but because I was too good at it -- for a brief moment.
I took the interest that I had in potential dreamboats very seriously and would give in to my inclination to give any slightly-possible situation a chance. I was open to involvements with people that were so obviously unsuited to me, and I was ready to throw myself into being with someone all-the-time and forever, I fully believed in the possibility of love.
I would spend hours with them, I would tell them anything, I would try my hardest to know everything about them, I would do anything for them, take them anywhere, make the biggest plans, make cookies, write poems, trace lines on the palms of their hands, hold on to their hipbones, adore the pimples on their necks, imagine our lives together.
I would fall in love with them, all at once, given any opportunity.
The shitty thing about two-weekers is that when it didn't work (ever) out I looked like a liar or felt like they were a liar.
Was I a liar? Probably. Not on purpose, not by choice. But I would lie to myself to further the situation, to go on pretending that this could be the big love I'd been looking for. I used to be much better at ignoring obvious problems or conflicts.
And they were liars only in the same way, yes.
These days what would have been two-weekers are now either situations I know to avoid or they are much briefer of involvements, with a thousand times less intensity. With no intensity, no actual possibility. There are still fun elements, but it's much less of an experience than I have been used to.
I would never give in to it as much.
Things lately with men are different. I'm not sure why. Probably because of realizing I could still have small crushes on people I know I am ill-suited to. And that making out with people you are ill-suited to is still fun.
Though much less exciting. Romantically exciting, I mean.
And probably because I'm not sure I'm looking for a relationship. Mostly because maybe I don't believe in them for me. And why would I?
I don't know, I mean, I also used to hold candles.
I still have people who I hold in my mind as people I could have loved at some point. But I don't have loose ends the way I've had in the past. I don't have people who I think I will someday marry. There is no one I know who I believe I could still fall in love with.
I have kept a list in an old notebook which is titled:
"people I still secretly think I'm in love with sometimes"
an impressive list, actually, and with some of the best men I've ever met on it, obviously. And with some really terrible men on it, of course.
But these days there's no one I'm still holding a candle for. All the names are crossed off.
I think my close friends are somewhat confused and annoyed at the huge crushes I get on people who are obviously not quite interested in me. Maybe minorly interested, at least in keeping me around a bit, those work the best.
The problem is, I feel too uncomfortable without a good, big #1 crush.
If I have a #1 crush who I don't know well enough to dislike, who is handsome and (especially) talented, and hopefully funny, and who is not around much, and who maybe could possibly at some point fall in love with me like I think he should, then the other things matter less. Minor crushes are minor, being alone is not lonely. A make-out that was annoying really doesn't matter.
Can I live on crushes? If you think not, then you've never met me. And I'm not actually that sure it's that unhealthy.
When I fall asleep at night I like to think about crushes. I find it reassuring and pleasant to imagine our future interactions and words we might say.
Having no crushes is a bit lonely, I think, not having at least one person in this world that you could see wanting to be with? Slightly upsetting.
That's why I like to have a good, solid fall-back crush. In an odd way, it really has nothing to do with them.
It's the hope and optimism behind it.
I don't know that I believe anymore that I'll ever fall in love. Or maybe just not in the next few years.
Which is not the worst since I think being alone is pretty alright lately. And is just as valid as being half of a couple. And it's nice since I'm very good at lust and crushes and meeting babes, even if they aren't men I'm falling in love with.
Part of it is maybe that I'm not the person I want to be yet.
All just things I'm thinking about. None of this is definitive and I change my mind every few minutes. We all know this.
(these photos are from Saskatoon this August, I am still homesick lately, and trying to get into posting stuff I haven't yet, but still like.)
(also, I'm streaming the new Timber Timbre album here: music.aol.com/new-releases-full-cds/spinner#/11. Gorgeous.)
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