I didn't mean for this "private" space for writing to become something like a teenage journal to express they way I feel about romantic matters, but it is the only place I have to put my emotions "out there" and still feel like they are being kept to myself.

I've dated a lot of guys.
like
a lot of guys.

I haven't had very many actual boyfriends, but I've been around.
That came out wrong, but you get the idea.

Having had a couple of boyfriends, and having dated a lot of guys, I've rarely ever had truly romantic moments in my life.
I always settle for what feels the closest to some cliché deeply attached to the way I think romance should be like.
I guess that's what roots the tiny crisis I think I'm having now, settling.

I've been dating people since I was thirteen, that's nearly nine years now and I've had around five truly romantic moments in my life, at most. The kind of moments that make you go numb and dumb, the kind of moments that make you think life is truly going for the better now and that you're now relevant in the world because you're relevant to someone you idealise as much as they do you. One of those five moments I actually went through with by myself. I wasn't with another human being, I was left with a feather, a goodbye feather. Left as a miraculous discovery for the end of my day as I re-entered my "go-home" vessel.

After another one of those romantic moments I spent a week not knowing anything about the person who had somehow tricked me into feeling that special.

It's mostly all been like that for me, and a lot of it has been my own fault.

Every other moment has been like a worn out re-run of some shitty 80's love comedy that makes me feel like we're both just trying too hard, but the way I feel about the other person usually weighs more than my second thoughts on the matter.

That's me right now.

That's me right now without the "trying too hard". Actually that's me right now without the "trying" at all.
To him it's romantic because we hardly try but it somehow "magically" all fits together so nicely.
To me, it's only trying too hard to not try at all, to not ask for more, to give plenty... enough, for him to think everything that he's receiving is effortless, and perfect. For him to think we're made for each other, actually it's more like tricking him into thinking we're made for each other.

To pay credit to the cliché he does own, he tells me he can't forget the day we met five years ago and I should be glad to think my glance actually found a way to burn through his skull. But I always remember that when he did have the chance to act on whatever it is I made him feel back then, he made me feel like I was a shameful dirty secret. He liked me, but I clearly made him uncomfortable in public because he was too busy trying to get something better... in bigger amounts.

And sometimes I feel like that now.
Like it's shameful for him to admit he wants to be with me.
Like telling people he's my boyfriend infront of him is a clear violation of some unspoken agreement.
Like whatever smile that lights his face when we're alone should be kept a secret when we're not together.

I tell myself it's ok, I like the guy, there's no problem in making him happy, it's a new century and thanks to equality he owes me no special treatment because of that.