Grr's blog: "Grr Muses"

I’ve spent a long time now pursuing a concept of love that had been hyper-inflated by my love of reading and stories. I always expected to meet someone, instantly have some incredible rapport, a slew of shared interests, and a mutual desire to take the leap into some vast unknown. Yet this is the very antithesis of what I have found in my own experience. It seems to me that the stronger one person feels for another, the less likely it is that that person feels anything like that in return. One falls head over heels for the other, and the other finds a general interest in return. One feels confidant of how strongly the feel for the other, and the other is uncertain. While one prepares to take The Leap, and risk themselves in the process, the other has to decide whether to back up, or to accept the responsibility of that person’s decision. Having been in many situations in which I have been the uncertain one, and the fact that I have spent nine years actively avoiding these relationships in hopes of avoiding causing any pain, I’ve actually long since ceased to take it personally when I notice women doing the same in response to my own affections, or whatever you may call it. The truth is though, that both situations are unfair and unhealthy for at least one, if not both individuals. Neither really leads anywhere stable unless their instabilities meld appropriately to make that work. I don’t want to go out on anymore limbs for anyone unless miracles should happen and that becomes a mutual decision with some hypothetical woman. And I don’t want to be responsible for anyone going out on any limbs for me. I can’t promise I’ll deserve it. I honestly don’t really want any of it anymore. All I really want is someone I can say “Hey, let’s get a pizza, and watch some movies” to, and then do that. Or perhaps “Hey, there’s this cool event going on I thought you might be interested in”, and then do that. Maybe some intimacy of one form or another, and be satisfied with it without having to find a hundred labels for it. One day maybe “Hey, you’re here more than your place anyway. Want a key?”, and the other nods because it’s no big fuckin thing. I don’t know. Maybe I’m disillusioned because I don’t care about all the foofy romantic shit anymore, and I don’t give half a fuck what the sex is like anymore either, but I still hold onto the idea of some form of mutual companionship. Passion is nice and great, but it’s a risk. More of a luxury, almost. Give me boring any day of the week.