Note to self (This is one of the least important issues of human kind, but I’ll bother you with it anyway):
As you may or may not have gathered; I am a girl – a young woman if you like – of consenting age. What does this mean? It means I can vote, it means I can drink just about anything (I could, except that I don’t, as I like being alive and also I appreciate my remaining brain cells), it means I could legally drive (if I had a permit) and I can get married without my parents consent.
Now, as a human being I have innate instincts that have been predetermined for millions of years. One of those instincts is to reproduce, to mate, to find a man to be good father to my non-existent offspring. Apparently it is a necessary instinct to keep humanity going (not so necessary if you ask me). It is a physical reaction that produces a chemical which – apparently – can also be found in peas. Others may call it love.
And also, as you may or may not have read in my posts from about a year ago, I have had one single boyfriend in my 18-year-old lifetime and it did not feel right, it did not end well and it left me pretty much degrading “love” to a mere, childish reaction, it caused me to believe that we think “love” to be far more meaningful that it actually is. That it does not feel good once it gets too intense and that “love” as we imagine it, does not exist.
I know what you might be thinking; That’s a sour opinion to have for a young girl with only one boyfriend to account for. But I kept telling myself, one was more than enough. Now I sort of know what it’s like and I don’t need to repeat the whole drama again.
Thing is, I am human. A pack animal with the potential to reproduce many more CO2 and methane – discharging creatures like myself who will only want the new Iphone or equivalent when they are about ten years old.
There’s a thought: Apple killed my wish to have kids – and so did my parents.”
So anyway, that’s me. I have “needs”, I guess. And it’s silly. I feel like my body is manipulating my brain into believing I had sentiments for other people which exceed the means of friendship. Attraction. Which I suppose it is.
Now, so far I have taken the liberty of finding people attractive, but that was because I never had to fear anything else happening. Lately though my chemical reactions seem to be getting out of hand. And it’s annoying.
There’s the part of me, the primal part that says: “Oooh, he’s nice. And he’s nice to you. He’s funny and creative and – gosh look at those arms! And those eyes! He has a nice laugh too, he laughs about my jokes.”
And then there is the sensible part of me that says: “NO! Don’t be so stupid. You don’t have time. You will probably be leaving this country a year from now, you need to focus on your A-levels and then you will need the space to travel. You will lose your own personality if you engage into something like that. It is just a physical reaction. It doesn’t mean anything at all! MAN, you ARE naive!”
I want to listen to the sensible part of me. It’s the more reasonable part and the one that is right and will prevent further complications and pain (at my age, surely there cannot be a relationship without the heart-break and self-hatred – and no, I do not want to stay with the same person all my life). But then there’s that silly part of me, it sneaks up on my mind, putting thoughts into it and it takes a moment before I realize what I’m doing and snap out of it.
I AM FIGHTING WITH MYSELF, FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE!
It’s the silliest thing ever heard of. There is no point in pursuing something that will not last.
So, note to self: Don’t do it!