Friday, March 8, 2013

Pre-Spring Blues

I'm not entirely sure what's gotten into me lately. Maybe it's the occasional Christina Perri song that catches me off guard, maybe it's an episode of Once Upon a Time or Downton Abbey that is soaked with more romantic story lines than usual. Maybe it's simply the fact that I'm going through a certain "dry spell." Maybe it's my improper eating/sleeping behavior that has my hormones screwed up.

Before I continue on, I know several times I've said things that have warranted advice or concern. I'll just preface this by saying, I'm fine. I am not in a hurry to rush into anything at all. Quite the contrary. However, I'd be lying to myself if I didn't voice my slump that I'm residing in.

I don't want to be married. I'm happy not being married. Truly I am.

But I do miss being in love. I do miss the blossoming stages of amorous infatuation and the beautiful things that come of it when it matures into a full-fledged romance.

I've always had to be very careful in regards to what I subject myself to. With movies, books, music and the like. I guess it's no surprise that I'm more sensitive to things than I'd like to think. And it's true--with movies especially. My roommates can attest that I absolutely despise horror movies or anything like unto it. The images and the feelings remain with me for months afterwards and it affects my sleeping habits drastically. Any overly-gory, overly-sexual, overly-disturbing scene can send my emotions and my spirituality into a tailspin.

And this also accounts for romance. The Twilight books were my last paranormal romance books I allowed myself to read. I refuse to read them or anything like it. And there are several reasons for this, aside from the fact that it's a badly written, twisted, warped, co-dependent relationship based solely on the fact that the vampire boyfriend wants to kill the female protagonist, the main reason why I don't read them any more is that it teaches my idiotic female brain about my expectations for romance.

Whether I'm conscious of it or not, books similar to Twilight become a fixation for my hormones. And suddenly, if a boy is not brooding, dark, mysterious or tortured, he holds no appeal for me. Which, needless to say, is the epitome of unhealthy.

Having said this, I've been proud to say that none of my favorite books have an excessive amount of romance in them. Each book just has dapplings here and there. Sprinkled with occasional sexual tension and that's it.

Which makes me wonder why I'm feeling this want of male affection. What could possibly be causing me to miss holding hands, kissing, cuddling, making out? The book I'm currently writing has very little romantic entanglements, I'm not watching any movies or T.V. shows that are overly-ardent.

So why? Why do I feel so lonely?

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