lover girl in a hookup world

One of my afflictions is my tendency to get too attached to men who don’t want me in the way I want them. The scenarios that play out in my head resemble a romance novel, where there was never an option other than happily ever after. I want to run my fingers through their hair, tell them how lovely they are, stare at the sparkles in their eyes, and share a connection that wants for nothing. I know that I allow myself to set expectations no one can ever meet. These idealized versions of people I have in my head are unattainable, and when reality fails to fulfill the fantasy I’m disappointed. Somehow I never learn my lesson. I try to remember that what I’m doing isn’t for the best, even if it feels good.

Until one day, it just doesn’t, and I’m left with the remnants of my shattered heart, broken all by myself. Reality sets in, and I see the lack of desire for love in their eyes. I watch as my dreams get discarded, barely glanced at, as men trample over them to fulfill their own fantasies. Of course, I let them, and I wait for glimpses of my desires to shine through the fog of my newfound situationship. There are moments when they let me love them the way I want to, and I always find myself hurt when they don’t love me back. Lust exists, and it’s plentiful. For me lust comes after emotional connection and intimate knowledge.

I wonder if I’m wrong to want to wait. Could I realize sooner whether or not I’m really compatible with someone if I just put out? Or maybe even get past whatever makes me so averted to casual sex. In my rational brain I know sexual intimacy contributes to the depth of an emotional connection, but something stops me from being open in that way. My fear of rejection deepens when I think of a sexual relationship. I know it’ll hurt me more if I let myself be known on that level.

There’s a quote by a Ukrainian poet, Mikhail Matveyevich Kheraskov, that questions the origins of individual human suffering:

Are the causes of suffering outside of oneself, in blind chance, in the evil designs of others, in the malice of the gods? Are its causes internal, and does one bring suffering upon oneself through arrogance, infatuation, or the tendency to overreach?”

If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I bring suffering upon myself through infatuation. It consumes every one of my thoughts and actions and turns me into someone I can barely recognize. When infatuation has infected me, there’s not a day that goes by without me being obsessive. I have a one track mind. I’ve yet to be in the right place at the right time. I always find that when I’m obsessed with someone it’s unrequited. And vice versa, the people who seem to want me the most are never the ones I’m attracted to.

Although I’m not sure if I’ve made any sense, I want to end on a more optimistic note; an idea that’s been floating around for a while that gained popularity recently with the release of Mitski’s ‘My Love Mine All Mine’. The love that we search for and so desire exists in this world because it exists in us, the romantics. No matter the other persons intentions or feelings, what the lover is experiencing is real. We should appreciate what comes from inside us. I no longer think of myself as a hopeless romantic in a nonchalant hookup culture world, I don’t think the search is hopeless at all. The love I feel and all its intensity is here on earth and the proof is me, or us, and our feelings. We are full of it. I’m definitely a hopeful romantic here to stay.

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ethical nonmonogamy

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Louis Janmot’s ‘poem of the soul’ at the Musée D’Orsay