The Turning Point

A lot has changed for me in such a short amount of time.  It’s crazy how volatile feelings (most notably lust) can be.

The mystery is what drives the attraction.  I usually tell myself I can learn to love this or that.  And even when I feel a little excited about it, I usually cannot voice a true feeling of attraction well to those around me.  It comes off as convenience dating to them; that I’m clearly not as into that person as I had convinced myself that I was.  And maybe it’s true?  Maybe I just tell myself, Gee, love would be nice, but I don’t want to love this person.  That’s okay though because I might not get it elsewhere.  Well, I’m smart enough to know that is just hog-wash.  And quite frankly, I don’t NEED anyone (that’s the feminist in me coming out to play).  No one NEEDS anyone, but it would be damn nice to have a compatible partner.  But why is that so hard to find?

But I digress. My point is not that I wish to love someone.  I merely mean to bring up the subject of what I would like to call the turning point.  That early point in any relationship, serious or not, in which your brain makes a decision that it is either (1) giving this thing a shot or (2) getting the hell out of dodge!

I recently experienced the latter.  My brain said, oh sh*t and I skedaddled.  I have had nearly a week to reflect on my recent decision.  Through this reflection, I came up with a loose list of the things I liked and the things that bothered me; and suddenly there was an epiphany.  I realized my brain started lacing up her running shoes not long after the first kiss.  I remember that night well: I remember driving home with a stupid smile on my face.  But I also remember storing a negative thought in the back of my brain: does he always kiss like that?

The kiss did not start poorly.  I’d say it started like any other first kiss: a hesitation, the move closer, and the lips meet.  It started slow, and was nice.  But it did not take long for him to try passionate.  First kisses, in my opinion, are better left simple.  His idea of passionate was to round-house kick my teeth with his tongue (not sure where he learned that one).  I hoped it was an oops, but it happened again.  And again.  Need I say more?

In closing, you should know it was not the kiss that caused me to make my decision (though it certainly did not help).  However, I truly believe it was the turning point: the event that caused doubt to cloud my vision.  For better or worse, all relationships have a turning point.

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