Jinked

My friend Mary and I rang in the new year in a convent.

Yes, you read that right. Our friend Pierre teaches at a Lutheran school on the South Side of Chicago, and somehow got put up in a convent (which I didn’t know could be co-ed) with other teachers. I didn’t see any nuns. I don’t know if the convent is used for them or just some sort of teacher housing. Nevertheless, it was fun telling people where I would be spending my New Year’s Eve.

It was a small gathering, very intimate. There was good conversation. Good food. Good drink. Yet, even though I was surrounded by people, I felt pretty alone as the clock struck midnight. As I reflected on the past year, it made me think about relationships and where I stand on the level of intimacy I enjoy… which isn’t a very high level compared to most. I’m always afraid that will put people off.

I dread having to tell a girl (or maybe even a guy; who the heck knows) that, hey, I really like you. I like snuggling and cuddling and stealing kisses in the dark, but between the sheets all I really want to do is sleep. Sorry. Not interested. Never was and most likely never will be, for a multitude of reasons of which I could probably write a New York best seller.

I’d rather do something else with my time.

Me is me is me. That’s okay. I’m comfortable with who I am. I just know that nearly all human brains are wired for sex, especially when a relationship is involved, whether it be for pleasure, procreating or a little of both. I’m not wired that way right now. I never have been and I doubt I ever will be. That’s not to say that I will not, absolutely-positively change. I personally don’t think things are absolute in life, but right now I don’t want to force myself to be someone I am not.

On the flipside, I don’t want to let another person down, especially when basic expectations of a relationship come into play. I don’t condemn. I don’t judge a person for wanting that level of intimacy, but I don’t want to lead someone on, bating them with the probability of “a little action” here and there when it’s just not going to happen.

I’m comfortable with who I am, but I’m not comfortable with the fact that my relationship expectations don’t fit well into human society. So… does that really make me uncomfortable with myself, even though I believe myself to be comfortable?

So many things to think about.

It all just comes down to this: I want to talk and wax philosophical, leaning against someone, cuddling, snuggling with no other expectations whatsoever. Companionship. That’s what I want. Plus, it’s a really quaint-sounding word.

Companionship.