It all comes back to Mr. A, it seems. Whenever I think of an example of how I want my man to look like or how I would like to feel around him, he is the one I think of. My colleague in HK played a game with me yesterday: “Name me three things that you are looking for in a partner” followed by “Name me another one.” Apparently, the first three factors are what you have been conditioned to look out for, and the fourth is what you truly want.
Mine was “intelligence, humor and a kind heart” with the last being “that special quality which makes me crazy in love with him.” And goodness, am I a sucker for that last bit. I remember how very much I loved him then: just looking at his face made me glow inside, the incessant desire to touch him/kiss him/hug him; I would sit through hours of him gaming just so I could remain in his proximity. Mundane activities never felt boring as long as I was with him.
To this day, that unexplainable attraction holds; I still find him the most beautiful man ever, I still feel lulled into a false sense of happiness and stability around him. If not for my rational mind reminding me of the suffering he put me through, he would still be the man whom I can imagine spending the rest of my life with. How twisted that is; even today, after every encounter with him, I would pray fervently that I could love another man as much as I love him.
For if I did and the person is actually a kind and loving human being, I know that I would love him for the rest of my life. My doubts on fidelity and lasting love wouldn’t stand a chance against the magic of Love. Of course, I do hope that he is going to love me in that same no-holds barred manner; I am sure it would be a wonderful feeling, to love and be loved. Unfortunately, I have never had a lasting hold on that.
It’s been more than 2 years now but I have yet to meet another man who makes me feel so. How frustrating it would be to pine for the person every moment you are apart, to feel so irrationally comforted with a hug even when you are determined to remain angry with the other, to be so utterly dependent emotionally despite being fiercely independent prior to him. But there is such beauty and positivity in the madness of Love; I gladly lose any battle with myself to bask in its crazy gloriousness.
