The Type

It has been almost two years since I started writing this blog.

In the whole spectrum of things, two years is but a blip on the radar. But, when I really sit down and think about it, these past two years for me could easily be translated into a lifetime. I honestly cannot believe the amount of changes that I have gone through, the experiences that I involved myself in, and the pure, raw emotions that I have subjected myself too. The person I am today is almost a 360 degree difference from the person I was then. And, if you have been following me all along, you've read through some of these different things, as I am no stranger to publicizing my feelings.

When I sit down and think about why I wanted to start writing this blog, I find myself amidst conflicting feelings of laughing until I cry,  or skipping the laughing part altogether and heading straight into crying. If you are reading this blog and you have yet to read my pilot blog posting, "Conceptual Love" - dumb name.. I'm aware - I encourage you to do so before you read this one any further. Obviously, my first posting was about love, as love is fickle and I wanted to name my blog "The Fickle Truth". It was fitting. But, I would be painstakingly lying if I didn't tell you the whole reason of writing that blog. So, here goes.

I wrote the blog as sort of a confession letter to tell someone that I was falling in love with him (and, yes, I mean "him" - I'm gay. Get over it! =P). And then I posted that link to every social site that I have ever owned in hopes that he would somehow catch wind of it, read it, realize his long lost love for me and come barreling into my open arms with undeniable happiness.

Well, that never happened. He read it, asked me who I was talking about, and because I hadn't developed those lovely set of balls that I carry today, I just said "someone". And, we never spoke of it again.

Thank God.

This boy that I was so much in love with turned out to be a certifiable sociopath that shoved me into the greatest bout of depression, thus far. Imagine if we actually started dating! We would probably have formed the most destructive co-dependent relationship towards each other and we both would have been screwed.

Since then, I have tried immersing myself into other relationships, all with the most dismal results. I've done the one night stand thing and I've done the whole trying to turn a friendship into a relationship thing. But, over the last two years, I have never gained that one thing I've wanted most: a bonafide, monogamous relationship.

This past week, my newfound friend Keegan asked me what my type of person was.  And while I could easily answer that I choose to look for the emo, punk rock kid that is emotionally crippled, I just told him that I don't know. Because, while I can get my sexual kicks from someone that is broken and that I can try fixing, that isn't someone I can spend my life with. So, I honestly didn't really know.

I've heard it said that while sex is a very big deal, it's like that is the easy part of any relationship. Yes, it's awkward and threatening and thrilling, but it pails in comparison to giving your heart to somebody. That's the real scary part.

And I couldn't agree more.

So, here I find myself questioning the "type" of person that I can see myself with and the person that I can give my heart to and not expect it to be handed back. And here is what I have come up.

First and foremost, I want a guy that I can be physically, emotionally, and intellectually connected with. I want a guy, who from the moment I meet him and look into those big, beautiful eyes, I will know that we will be with each other till the day we die. I want a guy who doesn't hide behind technology and isn't afraid of having a real conversation with me, face-to-face. I want a guy who doesn't just want to throw me against the wall and have his way with me after the first date, or the second, or the third. And when we finally decide to have sex, I want it to mean something and I want to not have to worry about waking up the next morning with a text saying thanks for the great lay and that "I'll call you sometime", which actually means, "I've had my way with you and now I'm done with you". I want a guy who, when I decide to show him every part of my body, I won't have to worry about him cringing because I have scars or a little extra flab. I want a guy who will be there for me when I need him most and will know that I need him even if I don't explicitly say I do. I want a guy who understands the value of just doing nothing - of sitting there, wrapped up in a blanket, cuddling, not worrying about what the rest of the day holds or what is to come next. I want a guy who lives in the moment, but also knows when it's time to start thinking and planning the future. I want a guy that can stand with me and be patient with me when I reach my lowest lows. Who stands proudly next to me when I reach my highest highs, knowing that he is, in part, to thank for.

I just want to love and be loved. Pure, unabashed, unending, raw, love.

I'm sure that you could arguably say there are guys in my life that would be willing to provide this to me and more.  And while I have no doubt that this is true,  my brain has to connect with them on that level. After all, the brain is boss. When meeting someone, my brain immediately throws them into the category of being friends or the category of possible lovers. And once they are in these categories, there is no switching.

So, I guess, therein lies the problem. Maybe the problem is just me. Who knows.

I watched Practical Magic the other day and heard a quote that I found myself identifying with very closely.

From Sally, after her husband died, to her sister Gilly, who lives on the opposite side of the country: "Sometimes I feel like there's a hole inside of me, an emptiness that at times seems to burn. I think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could probably hear the ocean….. The moon tonight, there's a circle around it. Sign of trouble not far behind…. I have this dream of being whole. Of not going to sleep each night, wanting. But still sometimes, when the wind is warm or the crickets sing, I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for. I just want want someone to love me. I want to be seen. I don't want to believe it, but, there is no man, Gilly. Only that moon."

Now, Sally was a lot more depressed about her love life than I am. I would venture to say that I am not even depressed. Just in a state of wonderment and questioning when I would actually have the ability to feel what I want to and have it reciprocated back.

I am young, I know this. I have my whole life ahead of me to find what I'm looking for. I just hope that one day I do.

A guy can dream right?

Peace, Love, and Other Miscellaneous Happy Things,

CK

Love is Fickle

Just a warning. This isn't a nicey-nice blog. It's blunt. And it will give you a great insight to how I think. Some of you may hate me after this. We'll talk about later. Hope you enjoy.

The concept of love is fickle. (cheesy opening line right?) And who the hell starts their blog with a posting about love? I mean, that is just so cliche!

Screw you. I do.

The reason I started this blog is to share how I feel about certain things. And for the past 24 hours, I have been contemplating the idea of love. (lame!)

When it comes to love, I tend to lean towards the definition of Dr. Temperance Brennan - Love doesn't exist. It is just a combination of chemicals in the brain that make you feel tingly in weird and wonderful places. - Ok, the tingling part is my own little tangent, but I figured it fit in pretty well.

The other definition? "All you need is love." "Love is the only thing that gets people through their day." "Without love, we are all lost." Blah, blah, blah, blah blah. What a bunch of hopeless romantics.

I think one can easily see that I don't hold love in the same regard as most people. I think that it is a very complicated and painful experience that I don't much like to participate in. Don't get me wrong. I practice "love". I love my family. I love my dog. I love my friends. I absolutely LOVE food (hence the reason I am fat ass). And I have been in love. Head over heels in love.

"Oh shit. Here it comes. Some girl broke this dudes heart and he has forever given up on love and is determined to live out the rest of his days alone with 50 dogs and 30 cats. Definitely cliche. I'm out!"

For those that decided that they have had enough, adios. For those still with me, pay attention. It get's better.

It's true. Some girl (or a couple of girls) broke my heart. And it hurt. Bad. Really bad. Both times it took greater than 6 months for me to stop constantly thinking about them. To be honest, I still think about them at least once a day. Let me just say that this is very stressful. All I want to do is get up in the morning, drag my not-so-happy ass to campus, get done with classes, attend all my meetings, come home, sleep, and repeat the next day, without having an an image of past relationships pop into my head. But, it ain't happening. I have come to live with this. At least the image pops into my head without having that "oh, I think I'm gonna be sick" feeling with it.

This is why I have casually said to anybody asking, that I will never date another person. I will never fall in love with another person. I would rather pour my whole life into something that I know will only ever benefit me in the end, than to pour my heart and sole into something that within a blink of an eye can be done with and will haunt me for the rest of my life.

"So, this guy has given up on love. Sad day."

Wrong.  (And for the person I had the long conversation with last night. I'm sorry. This is going to contradict everything I said. Blame it on the whole night of thinking after our convo.) I absolutely have not given up on love. After all the hard work I put into building psyche walls in my head so that I don't let my emotional roller coaster take ahold of me, I think they would crumble like tiny pebbles if given the chance to love someone again.

"Good grief. You are pissing me off dude. Make up your f****** mind. To love or not to love?"

Hold your horses. That last statement of mine didn't cancel everything out. My opinion has an amendment.  I have not given up on love (repetition Caleb, move on). But I am ok with not finding another person to love. The pain that I feel for being alone is nowhere near the pain I feel for losing someone that I love, because we had differences. I can deal with the pain of being alone. I have for two years now and I have been a very optimistic person. But the pain of losing someone for complicated reasons is absolutely unbearable. And I hate it. It turns me into a zombie. I stop paying attention to things. I don't want to hang out with anybody. I don't want to hang out with my family. I become depressed, pessimistic, and all I want to do is to not exist or become some cartoon character obviously isn't real. 

Some of you are probably shocked by this. Probably never knew that I have ever felt this way. I do a very good job of hiding it. I have to. I don't want people to see that and start judging me, because that's not who I am. I like to have fun, hang out with everyone, party like a rockstar and make people laugh.

So why would I choose to love someone again and start a relationship that could end and turn me into my own personal zombie? Now that's a big question. I don't know. What I do know is that it will happen again. And to be honest, it scares the shit of me. Because I don't want it to. I really don't.

Want to know a secret? I assume you do since you have stuck with me this whole time. 

It's already starting to happen again.

Please God, help me.

Peace, love and other miscellaneous happy things... CK