In the morning, in the afternoon, in the evening, underneath the moon. Sometimes I’m actually physically exhausted from having so much sex that I need to relax for the rest of the day just to recover.
This WOULD be true if I had the power to rewrite Webster’s Dictionary and make the definition of “Sex” a synonym to the word “Sleep”. Until then, I’m not exactly what you would call “sexually active.”
This is partly by choice, but mostly not.
I’m one of the lucky ones who is going through the Quarterlife Crisis without a significant other in their life. Some argue that this is the way that it should be – after all, the QLC is about YOU and not anyone else. However, I know many people who went through this thing, and they were in a relationship in the beginning, and in the same one in the end. It just so happened that they found one aspect of their lives that they knew they wanted, and that feeling didn’t change after many “a-ha! That’s what I want!” moments.
You can’t really control how parts of your life hit you. You just have to take them in stride and realize that this is part of the plan, even if you don’t know exactly what that is… yet.
For as long as I can remember, when someone was interested in me, it wouldn’t phase me much. I wouldn’t get the butterflies or the excitement for each anticipated phone call or communication from them. Dates were just “another day”, and intimacy was just “eh, riding the boney pony. whatever.” I think that part of me knew that entire time, that whoever my potential suitor was interested in wasn’t really me – I was simply a product of what I thought I had to be, what I was expected to be, and only minimally of what I wanted to be.
Bottom line: not me. Not at all.
Now that I’ve been working on finding out who I really am, and working on displaying these traits and habits that I’ve found to be most rewarding, I’ve run into a bit of a snag. When someone is interested in me, I fall in love.
No, I’m serious.
I fall in love with each and every potential lover that enters my life. From a significantly older client who flatters me to bits, to a handsome (and drunk) guy that I have a connection with in a bar, to the gay bartender at a nightclub that I knew was gay the moment I laid eyes on his Britney Spears suspenders. In each case, we meet, they like, I fall in love and inevitably suffer from a broken heart when things don’t work out, even when I know they’re not going to.
What it all boils down to is that going through the Quarterlife Crisis is a major life change and if you’re someone like me who finds out that every single aspect of your life is in dire need of a makeover, it’s almost like starting from scratch. These “falling in love” feelings that I get are like high-school crushes. I’m reliving the years that I missed out on.
The walls are not closing in on me, I’m just having “Love Flashes”. I think I’d rather get Hot Flashes.
I’m confident that one day, I’ll meet someone who appreciates where I’ve been, where I’m going, and most importantly who I am. It’ll be a mutual appreciation and the sky will be the limit. Until then, I gotta go, there’s an adorable guy in Starbucks– I think I’m in love.