0 My grandfather, who normally values studies and work more than anything, often asks me how are my lovers faring. Either he knows me very well and is aware that I spend more time between books or he is starting to question my spinster status. Or maybe he expects me to go crazy at university and start herding lovers like if they were cattle. Or… is he pressuring me into finding a stable relationship? Am I being just paranoid?
Truth is, love relationships at university are as hard to decipher as any ambiguous essay question, maybe even more perplexing. In fact, I would say that most of us find ourselves lost within our obscure sexuality; its multiple facets and possibilities. This is why my experience is a series of pull-and-release tensions struck by the tragedy of my romantic awkwardness and disinterest. When I ask my friends why I don’t find someone, just because I want to know how they perceive my enigma love-life, they will answer that others are just too intimidated, while inside I am thinking: how can they be intimidated if I just run away from them altogether?
love relationships at university are as hard to decipher as any ambiguous essay question,
University, then, becomes this legendary place where you should discover who you are; experimenting and such, or just finding The One: that guiding torch. What about us, individuals who are not interested in finding our soul mates through trial-and-error? That most likely, will find a cute-meet a disastrous inconvenience? That believe that tinder is more time-consuming than anything, especially because texting makes us as anxious as a nearing deadline. Individuals that either; ignore love altogether or who prefer consuming second-hand romance through friends or rom-coms; while thinking to themselves, maybe this is what I need… maybe not. Then deciding against it because it is too messy, too dramatic, too much effort. So you say “why the rush, why the need to pair everyone as if we were in Noah’s arc?” And then you stare at your reflection and state out loud: “Great, you are going to die alone”.
This is my Sexeter: a hither and thither, sentiments that leave a bittersweet taste. Ambivalence and uncertainty, apathy and anxiety; all of them in conflict and mismatched, making me wonder if sexuality is even that important. Or at least for me, it isn’t.
Tensions of sexuality?
My grandfather, who normally values studies and work more than anything, often asks me how are my lovers faring. Either he knows me very well and is aware that I spend more time between books or he is starting to question my spinster status. Or maybe he expects me to go crazy at university and start herding lovers like if they were cattle. Or… is he pressuring me into finding a stable relationship? Am I being just paranoid?
Truth is, love relationships at university are as hard to decipher as any ambiguous essay question, maybe even more perplexing. In fact, I would say that most of us find ourselves lost within our obscure sexuality; its multiple facets and possibilities. This is why my experience is a series of pull-and-release tensions struck by the tragedy of my romantic awkwardness and disinterest. When I ask my friends why I don’t find someone, just because I want to know how they perceive my enigma love-life, they will answer that others are just too intimidated, while inside I am thinking: how can they be intimidated if I just run away from them altogether?
University, then, becomes this legendary place where you should discover who you are; experimenting and such, or just finding The One: that guiding torch. What about us, individuals who are not interested in finding our soul mates through trial-and-error? That most likely, will find a cute-meet a disastrous inconvenience? That believe that tinder is more time-consuming than anything, especially because texting makes us as anxious as a nearing deadline. Individuals that either; ignore love altogether or who prefer consuming second-hand romance through friends or rom-coms; while thinking to themselves, maybe this is what I need… maybe not. Then deciding against it because it is too messy, too dramatic, too much effort. So you say “why the rush, why the need to pair everyone as if we were in Noah’s arc?” And then you stare at your reflection and state out loud: “Great, you are going to die alone”.
This is my Sexeter: a hither and thither, sentiments that leave a bittersweet taste. Ambivalence and uncertainty, apathy and anxiety; all of them in conflict and mismatched, making me wonder if sexuality is even that important. Or at least for me, it isn’t.
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