A Eunuch's Love Life

The more personally intimate blog of the love life of an androgynous but not sexless eunuch in this post-modern world

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Very Special

OK, melodrama over, what am I gonna now? I can't stop being androgynous, I can't stop wanting personal intimate loving, I can't make any man fancy me or change his sexual preference or alter the odds of guys who would possibly find my particular sex/gender attractive. So, I can accept all those things, and put my hope in the faith that the Universe is very well constructed, and that whether I can see how or not (and I can't), the right person for me will be drawn to me. Looking for him has caused me nothing but heartbreak, disappoinment and rejection, but maybe he can find me.

New affirmation: God brings my perfect lover to me.

It almost removes me as an agent, but maybe this is appropriate, and I am an agent, in that I choose to have faith that the Universe is well constructed, and that there is therefor an appropriate partner for me, and that somehow we will meet. Seeing the glass as half full is an active ongoing choosing.

How do I deal with the present lack of loving, given that I finally accept there is nothing at all that I can actively do to change this, no way I can hunt it down, no way I can get intimate physical contact until the Universe in its own good time brings this to me?

Quieting the distressing thoughts with patience and faith, putting my energies into the jobs that I am obviously here to do, getting refugees out of jail, and other social justice causes including my paid job. Making sure I keep in regular contact with friends. Hug whenever I can. Get in crowds where physical contact is unavoidable. More voluntary community service. More reading. More writing. Appreciating more, criticising less. Maybe work on a show. Go dancing more, without at all hoping to pick up.

Accepting that there is nothing I can do to make loving happen, and not judging my life harshly by my failure to do so.

And affirming that the Loving God will bring Loving to me.

Sometime, faith is the only answer.

I can fear the long night, and dread tomorrow night being longer, or I can just stay home alone but warm, and trust the sun will shine again. I can't affect the seasons, just as I can't hurry love.

Unlike the seasons, however, I don't know how long it will be before the long dry spell for my heart ends. So I might as well climb into my head for the duration, rather than perish in the parched desert of my love life.

I've fuckin' got work to do, and I can't do while I'm hijacked by unmeetable agenda. I can't get out of bed if my head is screaming that no man will ever want me. I can argue with this thought, for really it's only that no man I've ever met so far wants me, and it may well simply take longer for me since the odds of a man finding my gender attractive are so much longer. That doesn't make me unfuckable, just very special.

And wouldn't it be nice if my mood changed for the better with the seasonal shift soon upon us? Fuck yes.

1 Comments:

  • At 12:44 am, Anonymous feminised.male said…

    That doesn't make me unfuckable, just very special.

    Absolutely!

    I found love but it was nothing like the love I might have expected to find and led to my abandoning the role of a woman. (I found it hard to click my fingers and say 'things change' with philosophical serenity.

    Kim

     

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