Lust of any sort I have for the "you" you posses is dead.
If I knew not what you were, I wouldn't look twice.
Kristen! Have you forgotten me?
Even your personality- nay, the cold shell you wear- is appalling.
I find it quite strange that the further I go on in this endeavour the less I like you. I do like you, oh, I like the you you were more than anyone else. But it- being so far gone- is no longer even my motivator in trying, pathetically, to reach out to you. I reach out to you more out of need than want. I cannot, in good conscience, leave you be. You pester me: either I pretend to be indifferent to you or I must do my best to show you I care about you.
Though my words are jumbled, rest assured, I do care about you, and, though you really, really do not care, you are my top choice, my ideal man. But I just don't like you very much right now. I want to snap my fingers and resurrect the old you- but such a thing is impossible, though, I must say, you act very much as if you were under hypnosis. I will be kind because I must, because I love, because you need it, and because I once liked and could like again. But the emotional part is, except for the pain of your contrite, uninterested answers, fading- and for the better.
1 comment:
And that's a wonderful lesson to learn... that when you "love" someone but you do not like them, then that is not love at all, but chemical, hormonal lust. In true love, you like the person first, and you keep liking them even as love swells and overtakes you. The feeling of love for someone will wax and wane like the moon, but the like should always be there, steady, unchanging. "Like" is the rational mind. "Love" is the irrational, blundering, mad heart.
The mind is what makes a person human, and what elevates them above the animal.
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