Things Of Which I Have Spake.

On this blog I've commented on a number of things, a recurring theme is often where I stand with relationships and women in general. I'd like to set a few things in order in regards to that.

First off, I think women are beautiful. While beauty is certainly a matter of personal taste, the kind of women I find attractive can really put me in my place. I'm a fast thinker and a fast talker, but like a cartoon character my tongue gets tied when I interact with a girl I think is attractive. I understand I'm not the kind of fellow whose looks are substantial enough to attract women outright. Often it takes time for them to get to know me to find out if I'm there type. While this can work in my favour, in that it allows me to get to know them better too, if nearly eliminates any chance of a summer fling, or anything so whimsical as that. I'm 24, I've come to accept that.

With my auto-immune disorder throwing new roadblocks down for me, I found myself comforted by a sort of resentment I established towards the opposite sex. I felt empowered by assigning myself a certain degree of disinterest. Of course this disinterest was fairly forced and almost entirely dishonest with my true nature. I have no desire to be a player by any stretch of the imagination, but like any man I crave a woman's touch and their company. I do fear being left, but that's part of the risk you take when you begin a new relationship.

To date I've only been in one relationship ever. I had to deal with people assuming I was gay through high school, which left me single and my first relationship was so fraught with bizarreness that it can hardly have been called healthy. I am still very new to the dating world, and I know my personality type. I am easily wounded, so reliant upon success and happiness that when presented with anything less I go into defensive mode, making jokes and becoming angry inside. A few posts back I wrote a short piece about a fictitious relationship idea. The elements of it were a mix of hopeful, and realistic. I don't imagine I'll be single for the rest of my life, but I certainly know I won't be happy immediately. I'm too keen to find someone specific that it will be almost impossible for anyone to live up to those expectations. I don't want to have to lower them, but at the same time I don't want to deal with the inevitable hurt.

I can't begin to understand a woman no more than I can begin to understand my fellow man. I attempt, vainly at times to question and pry my way into the mind of those in my life in hopes of gleaning information about their machinations I didn't otherwise know. The women in my life, the few that there are seem somehow dreamlike to me. What I mean to say is, that they're kind and reasonable people whose existence seems to fly in the face of what I need to believe. I don't count my mother in this equation, as she's so detached at times it's hard to forge any kind of relationship with her, let alone maintain one.

I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry. Sorry to those who read previous posts and formed an opinion of me which may have been somewhat loaded. The anger and resentment I feel never really overrides my nature, though it does sometimes nudge it into avenues not of my choosing.

We cannot choose the things we love or hate, only the manner in which we love and hate them.