Hmm, and today it would appear we're back to "lovey-dovey" mode again, but on a slightly different level/aspect. That goshdarned "blackness" that would usually go from the middle of my right foot up to the bottom of my physical heart is almost nearly gone now, so that's really funky and awesome. It makes me very happy and optimistic.
Now, a little cautionary tale on messing around with stuff and other people's free-will that's related to this: you know why it was so friggin' difficult for me to get rid of of? Yup, as it turned out, designee "foxy psychotherapist" actually placed a rule 4 love thingy on me (by her own admission), which was intended to make me "fall crazy in love" with her, but then it turned into more of a curse thingy, because - due to her, as it turned out, pretty serious underlying mental issues (pretty much a textbook case of obsessive neurosis
- it's also why I often call creepy uncle Lacan a "magnificent bastard", because he got this thing down *exact*, and I was like, "oh, fuck me" - I won't be going into details on her personal history and how it occurred, though, as that's her private matter) - she actually had *no intention at all* of capitalizing on it in any sensible, real-world sense (I apparently fell directly and perfectly under her "object of desire" header, which may sound fun, but actually isn't - the "object of desire" is, in short, the "thing you want to want, but cannot allow yourself to have" because to do otherwise equals "death" to the unconscious) which didn't stop her from gaming me into oblivion, forcing a confession of love out of me (which, admittedly, made her *extremely happy* AFAIR), and then proceeding to game me some more with no proper response in return... and then I got fed up, told her what I didn't like about the situation and her push-pull treatment of me in general (I admittedly could have been a little bit, erm, gentler about this, but cut me some slack, we were, like, 23? at the time; and it's not like I cussed her out).... and then she got really, really nasty, and that's when she tried doing the rule 4 love thingy as well (she also pretty much found the nearest willing boyo, which she never had a shortage of, lol, and proceeded to parade him in front of my face for all to see while acting extremely slutty, which she'd never done before *nor* after), and then she had to, IIRC, go on anti-schizo medication and is still on it, last I saw. After some time passed, we actually got back in touch and would meet every now and again, and were on civil and/or sometimes even better terms (I remember her telling me once that "you're the toughest man I'd ever known"... well, no shit, girl ,you put me through hell, the fuck else was I supposed to be?). Ehh. Sad.
Anyhow, I feel like I'm... free. Heck, I still care about her and still find her very much attractive (she's, urm, my type
also she's still very much a looker at 31 now, back then, she was a bona fide head-turner, whoo boy); and I genuinely feel for her mental health situation and hope she gets it sorted out, but - being probably the only male to actually *know* her - I also know she's, well... not the nicest person ever, especially towards men, but she masks it extremely well (I believe at some level she's scared of men, and she often uses the fact that guys fall for her in droves due to her attractiveness and charm to, well, be cruel to them - I've seen her ridicule and laugh at guys *she actually likes* publicly and in settings where it's very much improper - hell, I've seen her do that during one of our hot Lacanian action meetings, to a guy she considers a friend; I found it improper enough to tell her to stop doing this; within 10 minutes, she got all wonky and had to take her meds. I'm probably the only person to *ever* point out to her that it's... well... kinda shitty behavior. She likes surrounding herself with guys who are intimidated by her charms, lol, so I'd bet nobody's ever done that apart from me. An entire room of practicing psychoanalysts and nobody's ever told her to maybe be dial it down a notch, jeebus).
But that ambivalent sensation of "love" that I've had lingering for these past 10 years? It feels like it's finally gone. Goodness gracious, it's good to finally get it off my chest.