Love That Is Unbreakable

I have a problem with love and with the way it is depicted in the media. Or rather with it on the television.

Maybe I just have a problem because I want love?

Perhaps it is because nobody loves me? Am I jealous? Lonely? I am not sure, but probably yes to all three.

Recently there has been a drama called Apple Tree Yard. It involves a middle-aged woman having sex with a man whom she doesn’t know within eight minutes of meeting him. For some reason, having seen clips and pictures of it beforehand, it bothered me.

I didn’t know why. I couldn’t think why it should bother me so. So I tried to break it down.

An older woman. All my exes have been older. I equate age with intelligence even though I know that age is not a sign of wisdom or cleverness. My first was thirty-three years older which there wasn’t a problem with agewise. After that the gap has generally been around ten to five years.

I am not looking for older women. It has just worked out that way. Why? Well, no younger woman has ever been attracted to me and most of the females I am friends with tend to be older (with a few exceptions).

The second thing is my own problem with sex. I enjoy being with another person sexually but, for me, it isn’t the be all and end all of relationships. Saying that, do I want to have sex? Of course. But not anonymous random sex with strangers as seen in Apple Tree Yard.

I find it hard to be instantly sexual with a new partner. This comes down to my sexuality to some part I assume. Sexuality? Yessum. I am demisexual, which is basically asexual but I get to have my cake and eat it. For more details, check out the tag on the right of the screen.

Putting that to the side, the initial first part of this blog, I am also not good at reading signals from women, traffic lights and small blue furry creatures from Alpha Centauri.

I have no idea if someone likes me romantically, sexually, platonically. Which isn’t an issue. But I would prefer it if women would tell me. Or men, it would have made a few of my male friendships less awkward.

Um, should I explain that statement? I have had friendships, strictly non-sexual and non-romantic, with men which have crash-dived because they thought I was gay or because they fancied me. Heaven knows why, I would have thought I would be too ugly for men or women or indeed small blue furry creatures from Alpha Centauri.

Sometimes I think I can just pick up certain signals with my malfunctioning spidey-sense. I find myself trying to impress them with small foolish acts. All to no effect. I just feel bad with myself and more alone than before.

Why, and what, do I want from a relationship? Love, companionship, intelligence. Beauty? Well, that is always a plus but none of my previous relationships have been because they were beautiful. They were, of course, beautiful to me though. I could have written rhaspodies about their attractiveness.

The unpalatable truth is that romancewise I have had all that I am going to have. I know that I won’t find that special someone, a soulmate. It is too late for me. No more kissing, no more hugging, no more holding hands, no more cuddling late at night listening to the heartbeat of one whom I love so much.

No more.


About greebohobbes

All-round irritant, expert swordsman (loves lopping off the heads of ghouls), professional charlatan and outrageous wearer of black cocktail dresses...
This entry was posted in asexual, asexuality, BekHobbes, confused, Demisexual, demisexuality, existence, hope/despair, love, opinion, questions, reallife, sorrow, suicide, women. Bookmark the permalink.

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