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chemical reactions, modern love

Modern Love: “My Love” Versus “Your Love”

Why does “my love” need to look like yours?

I am so very tired of people telling me what I need, who I need. As if we are all cookies made from the same broken mold, as if we all want and desire and need the same things. We don’t; I don’t! So, I wish everyone would just stop with the–

    • You need someone “special”
    • You need someone who makes you feel cared for
    • You need someone who [fill in the blank]

Pardon the vulgarity, but please, fuck right on off! You, not any single one of you, has walked ten inches, let alone a mile, let alone 30 years in my shoes, so have a little humility and have a little fucking respect.

What is someone “special”? Huh? What does that even mean?! It’s this banal sentiment meant to extend some sort of comfort, some sort of verbal back rub, and to make me an object of pity because I don’t go home each night and curl up around the same person and cry when I don’t see them and passive-aggressively give them my back when I’m upset and–

Please. And someone who makes me feel cared for? What does that even mean? That makes two assumptions: 1) That it’s a universal requirement and I know what that feels like (and it isn’t, and I don’t, and I’m fine with that, because that assumes that I trust people) and speaking of trust, 2) That assumes that I trust people. Why should I? Here’s what people do when you trust them: They will out you to your parents to save their own skin; they will lie to you about a medical condition to prevent you from moving on with your life; they will push a mutual friend away to protect their own sense of security; they will try to get you fat so they feel better about their body issues; they will ghost-trick you into doing something so they can throw themselves at you; they will cheat on you; they will use you, and use you, and use you for their own self-satisfaction and then go on with the rest of their lives…

“My love” need not look like “your love”. What I want is simple:

    1. Someone who I can have a conversation with about books, topics, random interesting things, etc.
    2. Someone who maintains her own hobbies and life and allows me to do the same.
    3. Someone who doesn’t hate my friends and I don’t hate hers–they need not be a shared thing, in fact, I’d prefer they weren’t.
    4. Someone who knows that while I can be called upon for just about anything, don’t make it a habit; I am not your pack animal, I am not your stevedore, I am not a receptacle for excessive amounts of your pain. Be reasonable and respectful.
    5. Someone who when she decides this isn’t working just says so. I am so tired of having to initiate these conversations and then getting the blow-back for it.

I do want kids; I have never hidden that, but I am getting so tired of all the strings that most people seem to think come attached with the idea of an “ideal relationship and structure”. Enough, just enough, please, I can’t take it anymore.

The jig is up. I’m done pretending to a desire for an emotional depth that I can’t countenance let along achieve. Can I just get the above? That is all I’m asking for. That’s all I need.

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About Quinn

In it but not of it. A reformed player, now watcher. Speaker of raw truths.

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Raison d’etre

"Raw," she said. "I want something primal. I want something bare and naked. I want you to give me this life raw, unbidden, unhidden, free, fair, and true. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

One may only try.

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