Sunday, December 2, 2012

♫...Where there is a flame someone's bound to get burned...♫



Cat and mouse.

I was never any good at playing hard to get.
It never made any sense to me why I should act uninterested in something I really wanted. As I got older, however, I learned the hard way that a lot of guys only love the thrill of the chase. Ever present remnants from our hunting and gathering times, I'm sure. To me it seemed counterproductive to my desires. "Oh, let me act like you're the last person on earth I want near me, and then you'll absolutely want me more than anything, ever!" The sad thing is, it works...and could be one of the reasons why I really didn't do much dating.

  Now that I'm older (wiser is definitely up for debate) I have the ability to appear detached...I developed it as a survival skill during a very dark time...but I don't want to. I have absolutely no desire to play games...or have games played with me.  If you like me, and I like you...I want to be able to say it and to hear it. I don't like guess work. I'm not fucking Sherlock Holmes, and I will not spend my time deconstructing every little thing someone says or does to try and determine what they really mean. Say what you mean and mean what you say...or piss off. The 'chase' has no thrill for me. Cuddling up on the couch watching zombie movies with someone I adore (and can tell/show them how much I adore them) does.

  Why is it so hard to express how you feel...to put yourself out there...to take a crazy chance...to go all in? I know it's terrifying. I'm not saying that it's easy for me. Far from it. I've been hurt so badly in the past that it's hard for me to open up to almost anyone anymore...unless someone point blank asks me...or goes first. All I'm saying is that sometimes that dragon is worth slaying. Chances are worth taking. They are seldom easy...but nothing worth it ever is.

  As some of you may know, I had a rather deep obsession with Grey's Anatomy for years (until they killed off my man!). I was completely enamored with Derek for ages...and it makes sense (to me) that I would quote him and Meredith now:
Derek: It's not the chase.
Meredith: What?
Derek: You and Me. It is not the thrill of the chase. It's not a game, its your tiny ineffectual fists! And your hair.
Meredith: My hair?
Derek: It smells good. And you're very very ballsy. It keeps me in line.

To me, that is an example of something real. He knew he wanted to be with her, and he didn't want to, or feel the need to play games. The thrill of the chase was nothing compared to the thrill of being with her.

...the crux of my problem, I'm sure, lies in that, for the right person, there's very little I wouldn't do...but that's a different story for a different day.

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