Tag Archives: love

The Question of Attraction

I’m pretty good at looking after myself, it has to be said. Not stupendously smug about it, but given that I never expected to see 30 and yet here I am two decades later still functioning in body and mind, my genuine joy in mere existence is unexpected and delightful. 

I prefer being single, I’ve realised, in theory. It’s great, and it makes self-care much easier. No explanations needed re: odd habits, no apologies for accidentally trampling on carefully-nurtured, fragile preconceptions, no need to request “me” time when I need to think or write, no expectations carried or judgements made. No embrassing relatives, no dodgy friends. It’s almost perfect, apart from lack of emotional and physical intimacy and the sense that I must be wasting some essential aspect of myself known only to God and one special person.

Happy as being single makes me, I can only go so long before the need for union asserts itself. When I look back, as is my wont, I start to wonder if my mostly wonderful, occasionally nightmarish relationships have been born simply of physical attraction combined with a certain personality type. Physical desire has always been a necessary factor for me to take the risk of making myself vulnerable, but there is something beneath the surface which I can no longer deny. I am drawn to unbalanced women. I find them, they find me. Aware, unaware, there is a pattern. The great magnet pulls all souls towards truth as K.D. sang, and my truth seems to be that I experience my deeper attractions to women  who are creative, intelligent and kind, but also frequently suffering, psychologically unstable, obsessive, sometimes self-abusive. I wish it were different, but I’m uncertain whether that conscious knowledge will reach my instinctual nature any time before death.

In my waking dreams, I stroll barefoot, hand in hand through warm, shallow waters, my beautiful lover and I laughing at the perils of the world which are conquered by love and loyalty, comforted by the knowledge of our compatibility.

In reality, I choose (or am chosen) unwisely. It may take months or years but however long the relationship lasts, in the end, I hang on at the waterfall’s edge, trying to prevent disaster for one or both, often cut off from the kind, loving souls in my life who would extend their hands to stop me plummeting, more lonely than I ever was being single.

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That’s Not Love

It’s been many months since I applied myself to the task of channeling experience into melody and words, and I’m happy to announce on this full moon that I have completed a new song, That’s Not Love.

I never know quite where I am going with music until I start, even when (as in this case) I do know what I want to write about and the manner of it. If you can spit blood with a mouthful of candy floss, that’s what I was attempting; but don’t think it’s a punk performance piece on consumerism and diabetes, it’s just a song about love gone wrong, like many of my songs, and all of my love affairs.

I say that with confidence because otherwise I would be married – or perhaps having found the the love of my life, widowed, heaven forfend – which I am neither.

So, lyrics.

As opportunities go, it was a good one
And we may never see it again
In the dark of the night windows are mirrors
And there’s nowhere to hide from the rain

You can’t do what you want, it can’t hurt me
Cuts and bruises will heal over time
But the lies that you tell are a tale of personal hell
“As long as it hurting, he’s mine…”

And you can’t tell the saints from the sinners
Gonna feed you or have you for dinner
In her mind she’s a bitch, she’s a grass, she’s a snitch
And the ice that she’s on’s getting thinner

Ooh, that’s not love, no that’s not love
That isn’t love

You shine like a light in the darkness
Grown cold and burnt out by the brightness of day
You pay for the rides on your big rollercoaster
But you secretly wish you could just walk away

There’s a place in your heart for the madness
Which you couldn’t leave if you tried
You know very well it feels safe in your personal hell
“Won’t you please join me inside?”

And just like mummy and daddy
You can’t tell the good from the baddies
Moon and stars are aligned, so she tries to be kind
But she can’t understand why she feels so sad

Ooh, that’s not love, no that’s not love
That isn’t love

© Dean Whitbread 2013 All Rights Reserved

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