Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Slow? or Quick?

I usually think of myself as being quick. I generally understand others. I process information fairly quickly. People, to complement me, will mention my mental capacity more often than any other attribute I posess.

I'm usually impatient with those who process slowly. Especially men. I have chosen at least two men who drove me crazy because the speed at which they operated was noticeably different from mine. It does not necessarily follow however, that they were my intellectual inferior. Not necessarily so - just slower.

Therefore, it comes as a bit of a shock to learn that I am extremely slow at processing my feelings. It is Tuesday. I am starting to understand my behaviour on Sunday night.

I went to 'the local' for a pint. Love Sunday Night Gospel! I chatted with a number of folk I know there, met a few new ones. And yes, I did think how it would be cool if H were there and how he would react should he find me there.

Be careful what you wish for, they say. Almost last call and I turn and look up to see those eyes. I am surprised. He appears surprised as well. Light warm hugs and kisses are exchanged.

I felt mildly rejected and disapointed that my fantasy did not materialize. Duh! Like how often do fantasies actually materialize anyway?

He did not sit down next to me, look into my eyes and tell me: "I'm SO happy you are here."

I don't think he was either happy or unhappy that I was there. However it seemed clear that he was no more interested in talking to me that evening than anyone else there, and perhaps did not want to be seen as paying me more attention than anyone else. People can be strange about that.

But - boy - I want that. I want someone I like and am electrically attracted to, to find me as endlessly fascinating as I find them.

You know, I'm not sure there is such a thing as feeling 'mildly' rejected.

I didn't know at the time exactly what I was feeling and as such, doubt that I was at all clear or eloquent in trying to discuss my feelings with H. Why the hell did I feel compelled to discuss it with him at that particular time? Stupid fucking beer!

Will anyone ever understand that we have more to gain by falling in love than we have to lose? Life is fundamentally better when you are in love. Wow - I'm a fucking love addict!

I want a reasonable opportunity to work again at making a love like that last, evolve and reward.

Any takers?

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