As I'm sure someone in a dither once said, "I am in a pickle..."

I once knew a girl who could not feel her toes -
it spread to her buttocks and up to her nose;
While sitting or standing, smelling or prancing,
Driving to dancing, trotting then lancing,
Hopping towards shopping and fanning while fencing,
No idea had she of what she was sensing.
The poor girl knew nothing of the life that she led -

so she opted to feel with her whole heart, instead.
-dm


Remember that whole business about my last post - about Love, but not Mine; the gnarley, disgusting travesty of emotion that made my stomach clench and my eyes water of their own accord?

Yes, well.... about that. This time, I have a dilemma, and it thoroughly - and intentionally - involves me. It is a Love, but I am horribly, 99% certain that despite my best efforts and the diligence of the other party, it is not *my* Love... (or very strong "like" - urgh.) again.

Perhaps I am a shallow person - I'd like to think that I am not, but hey, you never know. If it is any consolation (to myself), the men in the past that I have fallen for have not necessarily been considered Don Juans - or worse (better?) the Derek Zoolanders and Hansel's of their time. All the same, no matter how wonderful of a relationship - a friendly, marvelously peachy, platonic coexistance... I craze a physical attraction. I've heard the phrase "just like kissing my brother", and I have to disagree with that particular wording, as kissing my brother would most likely traumatize me for the rest of my living days, but in the sense that the romance, the spark, the ZING... isn't there... well... I need the Zing.

Perhaps I am a shallow person, but the man in question pulled a movie moment and I ... felt... nothing. [cringe]

[side note: my ex boyfriend has pointed out that platonic relationships, when you actually read some goddamn plato, are far more intimate and intense - true, maybe not as romantic, but about as deep and complex as you can get - than your ordinary sex 'n sugar squeeze significant other. I've read plato - and I've kicked myself for not figuring that one out before he did.]

Mais oui - nothing. No zing. No spark. And... now... absence makes the heart grow fonder - I've heard - and we're finally seperated for the first time since June 16th... and still, zilch.
(then again, texting does take away the illusion of distance.)
I want to try. I want to try and see if I'm just a confused bint in a pickle, and once I head back up to IU I will suddenly feel that spark, those fireworks, the great lean towards truth, love, and happiness, though not necessarily in that order.

... I am concerned that I will not.
... and... I'm pretty goddamn sorry, because I have been trying the whole summer... and I don't think this is something you "try" at.

My toes and my nose and my buttocks (well, that's okay) are great - my heart needs a jolt or two.