So many times in the past, my angst regarding my (non-existent) love life has felt so horrible because I was drunk--either coming on or coming off. Either numb or excruciating pain of skinless flesh--that's what being heartbroken while hung over feels like. Now, as I contemplate yet another confusing crush on yet another specimen of the mysterious male sex, I do feel bad, but I don't feel like hell.
What I do feel: I want to just get away, go away, disappear. I want this confusion, yet again, to stop. I wonder how I always get crushes on men who act so ambivalently about their feelings. OK, yes, I guess I am ambivalent about relationships, too. But why does it have to be so difficult?
I like someone, or at least I harbor tender, passionate, wild feelings about an individual. We come from different worlds. We are opposites in every arena. I am too old. I feel not beautiful enough. Men like young beautiful women, and I am not necessarily a "hot chick." I am an attractive academic of a certain age. He flirts with hot chicks who are 25 years old. He's a bit of a clown, and yet I have these feelings...why? Why am I not attracted to appropriate objects?
Anecdote: a few weeks ago, I dated an appropriate object: a professor at a nearby university. We commiserated over our careers--grad school, department politics, the writing life. We shared stylish meals. We went hiking. I saw his well-appointed apartment. He dressed tastefully from the JCrew catalog and everything. We watched a DVD together and laughed knowingly and snarked knowingly, smart people that we are. We made out, but alas, I felt very indifferent about going any further. First, he had really bad halitosis, which made me gag as well as made me feel a bit guilty about judging him. But also, I just didn't lust for him. He looked fine, rather cute in exactly the kind of nerdy way that I would want were I to date a fellow professor. But no desire beyond the superficial. My desire for him was mechanical, not organic. So we parted ways.
The one I actually love is a clown. He is also, of course, a musician. We have barely a thing in common except dancing. We belong to the same dance community. You meet all sorts of people there, fortunately or unfortunately. Sometimes when we dance, there is a palpable energy that emits. I felt it the first time we danced and have felt it frequently since. He doesn't ask me out. Coming from a different culture, he is not a "date" person, I don't think. Or maybe he is and is just not asking me. But I know he feels things for me, too. We dance. When he dances with someone else, we lock eyes across the dance floor. There is awkwardness and we have nothing to talk about--is this nervousness or the fact that we really have nothing to talk about? Is it just a sexual thing created by dancing? It's like we can't communicate with words, so we communicate wordlessly when we dance. The energy I feel when we dance is something I have never felt with other men. It's warm; it is life energy itself. Does he have this with other women he dances with? It's sexual chemistry, for sure. But it's weird--is it all in my mind? It's driving me nuts because I can't just ask him--I feel awkward. It's not like asking about factual things. How do you talk about such a deeply subjective experience with someone? And ask if it is shared? Ask why does it happen? How would he know? And yet, knowledge is all there is. Knowledge without explanation. I believe this is what Lacan is saying about "the real"
Ultimately, I go back and forth between wanting something to happen between us to thinking it is the worst idea in the world, it would never work out. I enjoy dancing with him so much. When these instances happen--the energy exchange, let's say, it's a kind of addictive feeling. I want to touch him again and more. Although we are just acquaintances, it's like my body knows his body much more intimately and looks forward to being near it as soon as possible. It's the strangest thing. I have to simply experience the pain of dealing with it. The pain of being around him and dancing with him without any hope of anything happening. It's too awkward and he won't make a move. I just want to get out of here. Luckily, I go home for Christmas--3000 miles away. I wonder if this crush will dissipate? I both want and don't want this.
