From Flibbertygibbet  — the “money quote”:

I’ve grown enough, or at least think I have, that I realize being in love isn’t the image we’ve been given in society, the media, in fairytales. However those thoughts come crashing in when I think of the term and it creeps me out. The idea of being in love sounds confining, as if I’m in a tiny closet, no air, no windows and ankle deep in rubber cement. It sounds and feels gooey, gross, clingy and obsessively possessive, something I do not want.

Over the weekend upon alternating between crying and staring at the wall, I began to wonder what my core beliefs and desires about relationships are. What is it deep within I believe is possible? Why do I even want one? And why, pray tell, do I fall all over men who aren’t ready? Is this a protection mechanism on my part? Sabotage? Self-abuse?

 I think there’s a relationship virus going around, making couplings extraordinarily painful this winter.  Symptoms include fatalism and random weeping along with obsessive/compulsive relationship thinking and sudden outbursts of glossalalia in the form of :  “Oh, Lord!  Why ME?!?”.  There is no known cure.  It seems to be as chronic and terminal as life itself.

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