People change over time, It seems. They don’t simply remain stationary, but instead morph from one state to another. Especially the 20 plus years after birth. That likely has more to do with the whole ‘adolescence’ thing, but that is a conversation for another time.

No, actually I will never be talking about that. I think it better to discuss what changed my mind about dating. In the midst of this transition, it seemed a necessary change, but now I would blame a hormonal imbalance that creates a dystopian hallucination in the mind. One where certain decisions can lead to an immediate loss of life. Or a sensation along that line. But, it ends up you’re just worrying about courting a mate, and making reckless decisions toward that goal.

Perhaps I shouldn’t say ‘you are.’ I’m sure since I’m describing the situation I was experiencing, it may not be as ‘relatable’ as I think. You’re more than welcome to comment below on what this was (or, is) like for you, but since I promised to talk about myself this month (and the court-ordered restitution stipulates it), I will fulfill this legally mandated blog.

Where was I…

Dating! Right!

In this respect, I was probably late to the party. ‘Girls’ were the enemy until they became women, likely because like me, they seemed to be a constantly shifting target. An action deemed ‘nice’ by one girl was deemed ‘mean’ by another (or even the same after a few days!) And, given how I already chose to refrain from contact with them (within reason. It wasn’t like when they walked into a room I wore gloves and hazmat gear. After the third or fourth box of supplies you start to realize that SCBA hazmat gear is pretty expensive) understanding why wasn’t a priority.

But, this was with ‘girls.’ At some point in time, my peer group went from ‘girls’ to ‘women.’ I say ‘women’ rather that women because like me, they appear as adults, functioning largely like adults, but still influenced by the dystopian haze that surrounded people under a certain age. I’m trying to think of a better word to describe this state. This haze seemed so pervasive that you wouldn’t think there is a reality separate from it. And it can be so influential that one can (wrongly) conclude everyone sees things this way. Like this is how we understand the real world.

Kind of like the Clouds of thought… Sorry, talking about me.

The only thing I could perceive clearly in this haze is that women behaved like sane, typical humans. ‘Girls’ in my mind, did not. So ‘women’ were a varible I was unfamilar with when I was younger. I don’t think that I never saw them, I tend to blame the limited field of vision I had with the cheap hazmat gear I was buying at the time. Along with simply not talking to ‘girls’ to begin with (the gear WAS a little off-putting…).

The challenge with ‘women’ is that with their similarities to women, one could quickly conclude there is no cause for concern regarding them. Even when these ‘women’ spoke with other women, they seemed to be of a similar cohort. Obviously with this being my reference point, my conclusion is that these ‘women’ were women.

Until something happens. Typically a ‘woman’s’ reaction is not the same as a woman’s reaction. From my observations, when a woman sees something burning, possibly due to an error on her part, she quickly resolves the matter to mitigate the damage, preventing further (if any) harm. When a ‘woman’ is in the same situation, they can be paralyzed, or resorting to hyperbole in describing the situation, but finding difficulty actually addressing the problem. This often would lead to a matter escalating needlessly and me getting yelled at for observing this exchange. Because, I obviously didn’t do anything, either.

Thus, like ‘me,’ ‘women’ were learning to function in this dystopian reality, lamenting that life would descending into chaos until we’re fertilizer and eaten by bugs.

Wait, I think that’s me projecting onto ‘women.’ I can’t say I spoke to many long enough to have that level of insight into their thinking at the time. It’s not that I didn’t try; I was just terrible at conversation. I think I’m only slightly better now because of their willingness to volunteer helpful insights, like ‘the weather is not a feeling,’ or ‘answer my question!’ Very helpful.

It also is helpful having people around assuring you that death is not the only thing left after finishing school and starting employment. There is more to life than that, it seems.

While I could relate specific encounters with ‘women’ as examples, I think I have fulfilled the requirements of this month’s court-ordered exposition. Next week, we’ll look at what is coming in the next novel.


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