Scorpionic - non sober post #1.

I get intense, I'm high-key possessive (not in a "I don't want you with other girls" way but in a "I want every part of you to be mine" way - arguably scarier), I'm all-or-nothing and jumping into love with blazing passion.

I'm not looking for casual flings or hook-ups or "lets see where this goes". I had a talk with a friend (the same friend mentioned in the previous post) and we agreed that we're very tired of the forced nonchalance in dating culture and we're sick of casual dating and we'd like the next relationship to be the last, but...

Dating is a numbers game. Logically, relationships are built on shared experiences, facing obstacles down together, and all that jazz. The key here being that relationships are built, not made. I am aware that, rationally, one cannot jump into a serious relationship immediately. Relationships are created from emotional sediment that comes in with the tide, and remain when the crashing waves cease.

However, I am emotionally incompetent, and my freakish intensity causes me to get serious way before it's time. Scorpio description: "looking for someone to bond with, on a soul level, in the area of love and relationships" and I suppose that's very much me. I want the chemistry (sizzling, unbearable, heated) and I want the emotional connection (intuitive, deep, jolting). I don't find that with everyone, so the rare few I can actually see myself bonding with, I pursue at a sprint.

As much as I crave intimacy and closeness, the desire wars against a very strong fear: that of abandonment or the potential to be deeply hurt (after all, intimacy comes with emotional vulnerability).

Of course, they say to check your Venus signs in love, and my Venus just so happens to fall in Capricorn. Committed, practical Capricorn who views a solid relationship as one built on investments and thoughts of the future. When I throw the rest of my astrological signs into the mix (Leo moon - passionate and dramatic, grand; Scorpio sun - intensity that can be scorching), I just end up becoming a huge trembling mass/mess of emotions.

Talked to my ex, Bear, and he mentioned that yeah, my intensity was overwhelming. But he realised it was a personality trait that he couldn't and wouldn't have changed about me, whereas what he could change was his reaction to aforementioned intensity. Which is a fantastic way of looking at it! Shoutout to Bear for being great enough to do that and for teaching me that.

In the end, what I did learn was this: your emotions are not "too" anything. They are not "too much", they are not "too intense" (hahaha, I know, time to follow my own advice). What matters is finding someone who is able to adapt to your emotional style (is that even a relevant phrase because if not, I'm making it one) and how you love. Bottom line... Love is love, regardless of its trappings, and if it's a healthy and consensual relationship, you deserve a partner who is able to take you, in all of your you-ness, in stride.

Choose a partner that chooses you, everytime and everyday. Not just on your best days, but on your worst too. Because it's better than the alternative, which is... not you.

Casual dating.

Much like casual sex, overthinking, and BDSM, casual dating isn't for everyone.

It isn't for me.

And that's okay. I had a talk with my ex, Bear (yeah, you'll see references to him sprinkled here and there on the blog, especially on my old posts), and he told me to stop looking for love and to let it happen. He told me to stop thinking for once and reminded me that love cannot be forced. Let go. Breathe.

His words got me thinking and I delved into a period of introspection. More than love, I think what I search for is commitment. I view loyalty and effort as more romantic than passion or emotion. After all, when the passion fades away, as it inevitably does, what is left behind?

As I was on Tumblr, I stumbled across a post from acutelesbian.tumblr.com that perfectly resonated with me and how I personally feel about love. It was articulate, well-written, and, as a pragmatic person, I could identify with it.

The post is here if you want to read it from its source, otherwise I'll be quoting their post below:

A lot of people ask me what my biggest fear is, or what scares me most. And I know they expect an answer like heights, or closed spaces, or people dressed like animals, but how do I tell them that when I was 17 I took a class called Relationships For Life and I learned that most people fall out of love for the same reasons they fell in it. That their lover’s once endearing stubbornness has now become refusal to compromise and their one track mind is now immaturity and their bad habits that you once adored is now money down the drain. Their spontaneity becomes reckless and irresponsible and their feet up on your dash is no longer sexy, just another distraction in your busy life. 
Nothing saddens and scares me like the thought that I can become ugly to someone who once thought all the stars were in my eyes.

The follow up is beautifully written.

I never expected this to be my most popular poem out of the hundreds I’ve written. I was extremely bitter and sad when I wrote this and I left out the most beautiful part of that class.

After my teacher introduced us to this theory, she asked us, “is love a feeling? Or is it a choice?” We were all a bunch of teenagers. Naturally we said it was a feeling. She said that if we clung to that belief, we’d never have a lasting relationship of any sort.

She made us interview a dozen adults who were or had been married and we asked them about their marriages and why it lasted or why it failed. At the end, I asked every single person if love was an emotion or a choice.

Everybody said that it was a choice. It was a conscious commitment. It was something you choose to make work every day with a person who has chosen the same thing. They all said that at one point in their marriage, the “feeling of love” had vanished or faded and they weren’t happy. They said feelings are always changing and you cannot build something that will last on such a shaky foundation.

The married ones said that when things were bad, they chose to open the communication, chose to identify what broke and how to fix it, and chose to recreate something worth falling in love with.

The divorced ones said they chose to walk away.

Ever since that class, since that project, I never looked at relationships the same way. I understood why arranged marriages were successful. I discovered the difference in feelings and commitments. I’ve never gone for the person who makes my heart flutter or my head spin. I’ve chosen the people who were committed to choosing me, dedicated to finding something to adore even on the ugliest days.

I no longer fear the day someone who swore I was their universe can no longer see the stars in my eyes as long as they still choose to look until they find them again.

I had a conversation with a friend and he said he believed that anybody could fall in love with anyone. I'm a little bit more discriminating, but I see the logic in that.

I suppose that I don't need chemistry, or mindblowing sex (bit of a stretch, this), or physical attractiveness in a partner. Those are all bonuses. Chemistry changes, sex becomes stale and boring, beauty withers (from a white supremacist, age-ist standpoint - I swear my partner will always be beautiful to me).

I just want someone who chooses me, and makes that effort to keep me, over anything or anyone else they can have. In return, of course I'd do the same.