I'm thinking about aromanticism again, and my own place in it. Because I love love! I feel love! All the time! I adore reading about romance, I dive into stories with it eagerly. I love my family, my friends! I understand it, I show it... Let's go to dinner love. I thought of you when I saw this love. I want to kiss you love. I'd sleep with you love. I'll do whatever I can to help love. You make me smile just by being love. I'm happy I exist in the same time as you love. Let's get together soon love. Excuse me they asked for no pickles love.
But I see this... It's not a line, it's like this space of love that I don't touch. This... Part? This path that I see and I understand why others dive into it and I don't want to.
Sometimes I see couples hold hands over dinner and think, "that seems like it'd get tiresome". There's a look in their eyes that I don't think will ever be reflected in mine and I don't feel any loss. I watch videos of weddings... Brides and grooms crying at the beauty of their spouses, kissing, celebrating, such joy and enthusiasm, this desire to BE together, these displays, these feelings. I think it would be a little bit of a chore, expressing that. Feeling that. Being that close.
It's something wonderful, and I don't want it. I can't picture myself wanting it. So many varieties of love that I have but the one seen as the strongest is the type I don't desire.
In the midst of the pandemic, I looked at my dating app and I wondered if I would ever go on a date again. I thought, "maybe I won't. Maybe I'll never get married." And a weight lifted off my chest.
423 notes
·
View notes