he who cannot be named.

I don't speak of the word "love".  It is difficult for me to pronounce.  It gives me chills.  It makes me nauseated.  I am not the opposite of it, but I am not its counterpart. It is like, the unspeakable.  Like the bald villain from Harry Potter, who I always forget his name, but know, his name cannot be said.  But yet, you anticipate and wait and sometimes even yearn for it.

It is, the complete opposite of what I was brought up on.  I was brought up on, no hugging, no kissing, no iloveyous, no tenderness when you got a boo boo, no mushy mushy shit.  I was brought up on the unconventional, non-traditional, even ridiculous, borderline unlove, love. 

Due to this, I have never had a stereotype of love, an image, a portrait, a standard, a how-i-would-like-it-to-be.  That has manifested itself and projected on my dating history.

I have dated the good guy, the friend turned boyfriend, the jock, the guy who's parents hated you, the guy who's parents loved you, the guy all the girls wanted, the guy no one wanted, the bad-pot smoking guy, the tortured artist, the older man, the much older man, the man who still lives with his parents, the guy with a kid, the single guy, the guy who's hustling, the unemployed, the guy who makes you look cool, the one you make look cool, the guy who breaks your heart and you vow never to let him break it again and he does it anyway, the jesus freak, the political rebel, the nerd, the one who can't spell for shit, the fat one, the skinny one, the guy who wants to move in after a month, the younger guy, the much younger guy, the mushy one, the cold one, the nature guy, the yoga-zen guy, the guy who never has a clue, the guy who thinks he knows it all but actually doesn't, the one who didn't get me and made me stay and waste my time, the one who got me and scared me and made me haul ass...all the shapes and colors and variety the world can offer.  

Yet I cannot pinpoint 'love' anywhere.  Or my type, or standard or frame of reference for it.  Is 'love' a Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks movie? Is love "The Notebook"?  Is love "Blue Valentine"? Tortured and painful and aching?  

Is "love" what I am looking for?  Is it looking for me? Would I know it, if it hit me?  Is it insomnia?  Is it a stupid ass smile during the day for no reason at all?  Is it the most unconventional, random, neversaw it coming event?  Is it?

truth is, I haven't got a clue.  I don't know what it looks like and all the data I have collected over the years (yes my failed diverse dating was actually data collecting) has not helped me establish a pattern or plan or course of action. I dare not to speak it's name, but just like the Harry Potter flicks, life would be so much different and less exciting without it. 

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