Why Look For Love
In today’s dating scene. Love is an equally scarce and plentiful commodity. Its very much commodity and very much like air — ungraspable, elusive, priceless.
I want this 👆 or that 👇
Both of these like Nike Air Jordan’s have off brands. They can be Ig worthy and rotten in real life. I am aware. I know because that is what I have been serving. Breakfasts in undefined relationships.
Are we together? But we are physical? I am dead certain gonna marry her vibe with fear of saying:
I like you.
When we are together and no one is around, my whole belly is full of juices and butterflies. The moment someone I know shows up, the butterflies turn into maggots that stink.
So I zoom out and ask around. I find that this is an epidemic that not many people are talking about. Even the women feel the same way about me but for different reasons.
There is a more perfect Option
I am seriously trying to figure out where this line of thinking comes from. Here is my scenario:
I met a wife material.
She is a great catch.
Multiple degrees, multiple master degrees.
Its all happened very fast in 2 weeks.
To be fair, I think that is a ME problem, always moving like a train only to park at the train station for years.
I refrain from discussing the physics of things but yes — to whatever you know about me and whatever you are thinking.
I can tell she is crazy about me even though she has figured out how to not show it too much.
Quick Detour
My brother called me a few days ago to inform me that my dad called him because he has another woman for me and he has broached the subject with the mother of the lady.
My dad called me a few weeks ago — barely more than one week plus really. He says the opposite, basically, I know of this woman, we used to call her “our wife.” Therefore, since you are still single, I think she is the one.
My brother very gently cracks the egg and I very calmly shut it down. Then I remember, when he was 31; I used to think — this man is so old and so single! Well, I am him.
I am very very content. In fact, I am developing allergies towards people and things that encroach my schedule with their ideas of a great time for me.
I read a lot of online dating profiles and most of the time, I find something. Something imperfect. Something that is a problem. Especially things related to how I need to spend my time on things that do not interest me.
You know When You Say “It is me.” — and it is true?
At the end of the day, I realize now that I am a hopeless romantic. Emphasis on hopeless.
I realize that I want someone new, someone I do not know yet, — I want them to overcome the depth of emotions reserved in me for someone else. Multiple someones to be precise.
Something isn't right not because there is a red flag but because they do no make me feel deeper than the past love, lust that I have felt.
Here is the kicker — I haven't known them for more than a week.
Something about that equation doesn't add up. Well, now I know.
It is me though, but is it right to keep her flame alive for me while I try to find diesel to pour onto my wet wood?
That is the crux of this musing.
Wickedness isn't always a monster in the dark.
Wickedness isn't always a masquerade on wheels.
Wickedness isn't always a horror story — or a nightmare.
Wickedness isn't always a bully in reality.
Wickedness is simply being evil or morally wrong.
Is it wicked to live in ambiguity that wastes others prime life?
Is it wicked to sharply terminate interest even if it hurts for a little or long while?
Is it wicked to be brutally honest about truth that is murky?
Is it wicked to see yourself living a long life with someone but denigrating the companionship in search of passion +
Or is it just
A.W.K.W.A.R.D.
Dating in 2022
I swipe on you
You want food
You are waiting on him
I have money
we eat
We both know
You message me
I respond
I swipe some more
You tell your mom
I delete your name
You ask me to pretend
You don't ask me anything
I know the assignment
We are all hurting
We are all waiting
Noone is coming
Many people are knocking
None is walking through the door
So many suitors
No love in the heart.