So I went on a date tonight for the first time in...wow, I'd have to say months. I don't think I've really dated anyone since before I left for the cruise back in September. Oh wait, no, that's a lie. I did go on a date with Antyon back in November or December - I can't quite remember exactly when - and that was nice, but the two of us had such radically different personalities and outlooks that I just couldn't see it working out.
Anyway, the guy was nice and we shared a lot of interests, and although I think we'd make decent friends I don't really see us in a relationship. He has what I can only describe as a speedy personality, and I find that I generally get along better with people who are slower than I am most of the time. I do have to say I find that a bit hilarious, because I'd always figured myself fairly laid-back and very low-key. Hanging out with Luis and Rob and most of my other friends, however, has led me to conclude that I'm actually a bubbly, insane maniac when I'm within a certain comfort zone. I think dating someone who's actually faster than I am would end up exhausting me, as I'd feel a perverse need to keep up.
Anyone who's kept up with the blog the last few months will probably know that I've been experiencing something akin to crushing loneliness for a while - insomuch as my Chinese cyborg heart can experience emotions like crushing loneliness or existentialist angst. Actually, it occurs to me that even when I blog about my depression people probably don't know that I am, as I tend to approach topics like that from a very sidelong, oblique angle before slitting their throats with a verbal dagger. Assassinating all forms of emotional expression tends to make it difficult for other people to recognize the signs. Nevertheless, visible or not, this has been the case, and it's only fairly recently that I've found myself pulling out of it. It'd been happening for some weeks now, but I think the process really only became noticeable on Saturday night, when I looked at Dusty and Luis and realized that although I was a teeny bit jealous of what they have (or apparently have), it no longer felt even remotely like someone was taking a corkscrew to my chest. It probably helped that I genuinely like Dusty, but I also think a huge part of it has its basis in an e-mail that Myia wrote me about finding peace within myself before trying to find my balance with another person. Myia always seems to know exactly what I need to hear.
Ayway, what's interesting is that this upswing seemed to hit its stride last night as I was walking home from my date. I realized that even if the date had really gone somewhere...I wasn't entirely sure that I wanted it to go any further. After months of wishing I could share my life with someone, I suddenly discovered that I didn't really have any strong desire to do so anymore. I suddenly felt much more invested in finishing up projects that I'd started, books that I've been meaning to read, shows that I still haven't watched. Talk about fickle, right? Weird that it should happen almost immediately after going out on a date with someone that, on paper, should've been great for me. I'm always reminded here of what an astrology book said about Libras, about how we swing manically around a centerline of balance before finally achieving it. I've been making some pretty huge oscillations lately, and I guess I'm now hitting the opposite end of the scale I've been riding for the past few months.
It's funny, but I actually tossed off a few messages to some people I found interesting on OKCupid when I got home. Why should I do this if I've just decided that I wanted to work on finding my own peace for a while? In some ways, it's the perfect time. I'm arguably at my most emotionally rational, so I'm more likely to judge a person based upon his actual merits and our real chemistry rather than falling prey to any romantic notions I might be entertaining about splicing my soul together with somebody else's. As I said earlier, I'm already far less invested in the notion, so if nothing comes out of it, well, no big deal. Life continues on my own terms, insomuch as it can be on my own terms. Arguably, the most perfect time would be when I've finally hit that balanced center, but I think I have quite a bit of maturing to do before I get there, and relating to other people is necessary for that process.
This comes back to something else I'd been thinking about for a while. For some reason, Rob reading Lucifer has renewed my conviction in certain themes that it explores, at least as far as they pertain to me. Being myself. Finding own my path based upon my own will, and not what anyone else expects or wants of me. Being a star in my own right, rather than waiting for someone else to shed their light upon my nighttime skies. I wrote about it in a very grandiose and very drunk fashion on Saturday night, but I think the healthiest thing for me right now might be a return to focusing on what I can do with my own life rather than concerning myself with what someone else might be able to add to it. I've tried, and tried hard, for a year and a half with mixed success. Being in a relationship has never been far from my mind during that time, but maybe it's time I break the ruby and reclaim my power for a while. Find out if I can really own my positive attributes and accept - truly accept - that I'm the fantastic catch all my friends insist I am.
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