The ramblings of a relatively reasonable man.

Christmas holidays: Day 21 — What is love, anyway?

I’ve failed. The plan was to write about the whole holiday, but after 6 days I became rather lackadaisical. I also became engulfed in my french girl’s sexual odyssey. So I’ve decided that this doesn’t have to be written everyday. Just whenever I get a spare moment of enthusiasm — that way there’s no pressure to perform.

I realise I can be incredibly intense when I …when I what? Meet someone? Tell it like it is — when I have sex with someone. When I have great sex with a girl, I become obssessed. Yes, that’s it. I become obssessed with them. This works when the other person feels the same — ie: you become involved in a relationship, so the obssession, to a certain extent, remains hidden because all of your desires can be met, without you being exposed as a nutcase.

The problem comes when the feelings you have are not reciprocated. Therefore, you become frustrated and love, or whatever we want to call it, turns into something other than love. This is the situation I now find myself in.

Basically, my french chick has only been seeing me because her regular bloke has been away for a week. As I understand it, she’s fucked him once or twice, he’s mad on her but she doesn’t count him as a boyfriend. They’ve been friends for a while, she’s just broken up with her previous boyfriend. One of those fucking weird girls who like to have their cake and eat it, so to speak. So I don’t feel like she’s cheating on anyone basically, and neither am I, we’re just fucking, albeit temporarily. I don’t suppose I’ll see much of her after tonight. This dude gets back and they’re going out clubbing or something.

So we’ve spent the last few days having sex. For me, sex is a very intense thing. I’m not sure how other people feel about it, but I’ve always found it insanely intense. I realise that this desire for her is very superficial. It’s based on physical appearance, hence it can only be, surely a very shallow desire. It’s not deep.

But wait a minute. I love talking to her. I adore her voice, the french accent, the tone of her words. The smell of her skin. The beautiful, dark colour of her body. Those lips, my god. Her beautiful smile. Kissing her shoulders. I feel excited when I’m around her. I look into her eyes and I feel that spiritual connection. When we made love we would spend minutes staring into each other’s eyes without saying anything. What the hell is this? And why do I want her so much? She doesn’t feel the same, which is fucking tragic. She wants freedom. Not a boyfriend. You can become obssessed so easily. Now I’m stuck with this goddam feeling of loss, and ending what was the greatest holiday of all time on a bit of a bummer. What a cunt of a situation it is to be feeling like this.

I bumped into her as I took a walk along the esplanade in the sun this morning. I was hungover as hell again, and was trying to clear the air a little bit.

The esplanade, as it always is, was packed with people. I was walking along, admiring the beach and feeling the sun on my back. There she was suddenly, walking towards me. I noticed her before she noticed me. Tanned legs showing, nice cute little shorts and a skimpy vest. Big, stylish sunglasses that hid her eyes. She looked unbelievable. I could see the tiny little hairs on her chest.

We chatted for a bit and then I suggest we sit on the wall that separates the beach from the sidewalk. We sat there for about an hour, legs over the side facing the beach. My mind was racing as we talked, mainly about trying to kiss her, how to get her back to my apartment and all the permutations that might be reasonably suggested to find a solution to that particular puzzle. I couldn’t find an answer is the short space of time. She wouldn’t have gone anyway, and wouldn’t have appreciated me suggesting it. Fuck what a nightmare.

She’s cooled on me over the last day or so. Probably because the ‘close’ friend is returning. I feel pretty devastated. Not that I didn’t know this was going to happen, but you can’t help but hold out some hope for a miracle turnaround and her maybe falling in love with you and deciding he’s not the right guy after all. I think that’s it. I think that’s what I was hoping for. We would make love, and it would be so spectacular that she wouldn’t want to see him anymore after being with me. Haha. Nice try. God, that sounds ridiculous now that I’ve written it down, but I realise that was what I was genuinely hoping for. Maybe it wasn’t so ridiculous, hoping for that. This is what I mean. How the fuck can you make love like that, and then for it to mean nothing to you? How can you just move on without a blink?

I realise I’m starting to sound like a girl who’s been dumped by some stud and left alone in bed when he walks out the door after blowing his load. I’m sure I’ve been that guy a few times. Fuck, I hope I have. And now it’s me, good old Karma, giving me a slap on the back saying ‘Well, how does that feel?”.