Attraction is just attraction, isn’t it? What I mean is, attraction is chemical, not mathematical — so attraction isn’t proof that we’re good for one another. I’d assert that women invest too much in our attraction — particularly if we’re lesbians — but that’s nonsense. We all do it. We all pretend that attraction means something definitive. I want you, and so you must be the kind of person who doesn’t kick puppies, who isn’t rude to waitresses, in fact, you’re probably going to save me.
I was explaining about manipulation to Gavin.
“What’s that word mean?”
“It’s when you try to make something the way you want it to be. To control it.”
“Like people?”
“Hopefully not. You really don’t want to manipulate anything but bread.” You can want something so badly you create it.
For lesbians, there are so few of us, too few degrees of separation between that ex and this new person, and how many lesbians can we possibly be attracted to? Four? 843? I mean, how many chances do we get before our pass is revoked and we just live with several cats forever? I’m pretty sure this new girl isn’t crazy is the lesbian anthem. And then, after singing it, we promptly turn to our friends and ask, “Right?”
I have heard women complain incessantly about trying to meet girls in this town. If it were just difficult here, people would move. It’s tough all over, goddammit. And it’s more complicated than Oh! Shiny!
We can’t make people our type simply because we need them to be our type. Who said I was submissive? Or butch? Or detached? Or sentimental? Lady, you don’t know me. And you don’t know that girl across the room — she may listen to Journey. She may actually like that shit. It’s true. And she might be the person you’ll spend your senile years with. And someday it won’t matter that she wears those sweaters. Or collects pandas. I’m not talking about book covers. I’m talking about your clit. Sometimes it’s wrong. Try conversations instead. Many conversations. Start now.
What do you think about love? Attraction leads to love. As in, I seek your best interests not necessarily in front of mine own, but on an equal level to my own interests. I have boundaries, you have boundaries, mutual respect, I want good things for you. And…. the sight of you creates that feeling in my gut that romance writers vainly attempt to describe. Am I being hopelessly romantic? Can’t, “OMG, you’re HOTT” coupled with an attitude that “I want good things for you” end well? Give me some hope, Jill.
I think we overreact to attraction. Or, think about it this way, a buddy of mine asked me, “When did you talk yourself into it?” and that’s the moment I mean. When we manufacture a connection beyond hormones. Good will isn’t love.
I think we confuse love and lust. Or we think that they need to go together. Our reptilian brain takes over our hormones and that can be a fun thing, but it has no lasting power. Love is a connection that need not even be tied to the feelings of lust that our brains may give us. Love is taking some essence of a person into yourself, some small part of you is given over to holding a spark of another’s light. Love is what truly gives us immortality.
I think they should go together. Sadly, we get distracted by lust and realize there isn’t actual love involved, or we settle for love only and decide we can go without the lustiness. You gotta wait for the whole package.
I think women often invest their lust with a spiritual component. Like, if we are THIS attracted it must be some sort of cosmic sign that the person is The Answer. So we sell ourselves on the idea that we are attracted to this person because they are going to be good for us. With all the complexity inherent in finding and dating in a world where there is in-the-closet, out-of-the-closet, straight-but-maybe-not and all things between, lesbians often feel adrift, and any spark is latched onto because we fear there won’t be another. Or we fear that we will only spark with people that are terminally out of reach. When ‘available’ and lust occur together, we tend to fling ourselves at it.