A summary of love, sex, and intimacy
Fellow Humans.
Demi sexual.... Asexual.
Trust.
I've stayed away from pretty much all the relationship movies, books, and stories. I've certainly avoided porn completely, although I've seen some of it as any internet dweller will have. I've had no curiosity for porn, nor romance, nor romantic comedy, nor really anything related.
It could be a subconscious stigma of mine.
It's possibly just a complete lack of interest.
It may be because I've never come across good material, and indeed I look down on pretty much all of it.
Most likely it is because I already have a version of how love should be and other works are a hideous affront to my (yes) ideal.
But my ideal is really, really so goddamn little to ask. It's terrible how shallow most all love is shown as.
I see love portrayed as someone becoming fond for someone else in 10 seconds flat and about half an hour later deciding that they want to live together with them forever and will spend the next days, weeks, months devoting all their focus on getting that guy/girl. For the reason they had when they saw them that first time. It's insulting.
I see love portrayed as embarrassing situation after embarrassing situation and all the while trying to stammer "I love you." And again, protagonists will do anything for the other person because "it's love!"
I see love portrayed as the highest ideal - a couple married for decades, lose everything and give their lives in a tragedy, merely to be together one last time. You'd think I'd admire this one, but it also, while at least taking it more seriously, is one-sided and just faker than it ought.
I see love portrayed as instantly amazing in a kiss. Mockery.
I see love portrayed as so perfect and passionate because they are in bed together. How is that even love?
I see love portrayed as violent and idiotically risky as they make out in public for no reason other than - so madly in love, isn't it great? While I understand it about a square centimeter's worth, that is, frankly, disturbing and reprehensible. The more so because it is indicated to be admirable. The more so because it nigh always supposed to be admirable.
All of this is perhaps inextricably tied to me being different. Both because I am asexual and because I am too obsessed with ideals to understand shallowness. And yet.
I have now watched some romance in anime that wasn't horrendously shallow and I understand many of the things that "being in love" is like. I have now read a book with romance and a book with sex that wasn't nauseating. (either for being shallow, or exaggerated, or incomprehensible, or mindless, or obsessive, or lame) The animes have been Kimi Ni Todoke, No. 6, and now Say I Love You. (and another I can't spell or pronounce, apologies. I don't think it is that good but I'm giving it a chance) The books were, oh so ironically, Twilight and Dhalgren.
It bears explaining that Twilight was shallow, but for the first time I just let it play out and understood the interest and attraction Bella had. I understood her perspective and it wasn't eye rolling or disturbing or nonsensical to me. Sure, I skipped the paragraphs that were too boring or descriptive, but I could empathize for the first time. (I will say that the next books were just a weird fantasy adventure plot unfolding. Yes I enjoyed the rest too, but that is neither here nor there for the moment.) I don't know if it was because Twilight was more third person, or more first person than other times I have read similar romantic things. Maybe because the romance was the focus and I'd never been interested enough to try before. Maybe because it didn't devolve into eroticism which is what I will skip because it is boring, nonsensical and uncomfortable. I don't know. I just know it was basically the first romance I read. And I got it for whatever reason.
Dhalgren finally was a work that didn't treat sex as either some perfect act, or some deliciously evil act, or some primal act of devotion, or some obsessive goal of life. It was described in detail, but again, not hollow portrayal. Rough, accurate, factual, true, it didn't hide the bad parts. It didn't scream and cry the good parts. It didn't make it into something it wasn't. And while I flinched and still desired to turn away from some of it out of habit, I wasn't doing it because it was wrong or lies or caricature for the first time.
Time after time it returned to describe it. And gradually I was able to scrape away the preconceptions of monsters placed to protect me long ago. Gradually I was able to just accept it for what it was and just imagine it without blocks in my mind. Things like debauchery, depravity, dirty, disgusting, reckless, mindless, oppressive, wicked, and wrong. Many of the same ideas remain, but they have the negative sides removed from them. Still I think oppressive, but not malignantly so - mutually so. Still I think depravity, but not forced and mindless and helpless, but choosing to indulge for awhile. Still I think dirty and wicked, but only because others make it so. Still I think disgusting, but only because I can choose to, as I can with most all organic things. I do not think of there being any of the good traits inherent, but now at least I can separate it from the bad.
So, then, what are my ideals and how does asexuality work for me? What does it make incomprehensible and what do I still completely experience like everyone else?
It certainly makes watching romatic anime and movies interesting. There will be simple statements and portrayals I will completely understand and practically blush in sympathy with how much I know that feeling. And then there will be dissonant moments that I complete do not understand. Of course, it helped to be in love. Suddenly a lot more made sense to me in these movies and books. Even when they were portrayed badly I knew what they were aiming for.
The other day it was holding hands. The girl was marveling at just how much it made a difference, and how it didn't matter compared to how long or how intimate they had been, it was still important and made her heart beat faster. I knew exactly what she meant. Then, at the end, after they had shared something important and personal, the boy asked to kiss her. I understood the asking, but not the kiss. A kiss wouldn't share what the moment held. Kisses are either childish infatuation or a small gift of admiration. Holding tightly is far closer to that strong desire to share and understand and love and comfort. Even just being together - standing, sitting, laying side by side is closer than the brevity and inanity of a kiss.
Indeed, most often what I empathize most with is the uncertainty, fear, and self-reproach that comes with it. Then the resulting wonder and happiness at all the small truths and even greater wonder at the whole truth.
But what is almost always left out, and what is so important to the concept of love, is that frustrated desire to understand. That willingness to trust completely and give everything. Not like "your attention to the end of days" but your whole flawed self to be as close as possible. The ability to stop being who you are amongst the crowd and be yourself or maybe somebody new. The desire to give and to take and to grow together. The desire to Kimi Ni Todoke - Reach You.
There is the accepting of flaws, in yourself and in them. Not to deny them or say they don't matter at all, but to acknowledge them and know them for what they are - good and bad, permanent and changeable at once. There is the fear of doing anything and everything wrong, as well as the confidence that you can and will and it won't matter. There is the desire to adopt and to differentiate world views. To understand, to share, and to expand them. There is the trust that they want to be there for you, past standing up for you, they actually want to understand you.
Some of the things that matter so, are hinted at or shown, but always skewed. The overreactioned attempts to protect. The baring of souls ends in "it's okay, I like you anyway." While I agree, it's shameful it is this instead of care to truly know or just vows to try to as best they can. The dates are all awkwardness instead of awkwardness and turmoiled and blind happiness and distant intimacy. They end in wild kisses, or running away to rent rooms, or just plain turning away because they give up trying to communicate. Instead of attempts to say or share in someway what it all means. They make mistakes and try to hide them instead of try to steel against their fears and draw closer in order to recover what was lost. Because that matters so much more than status or appearance in their eyes. Being true matters so much more than seeming.
Truth in self. Truth in them. Truth in understanding. Truth in self examination. Truth in teaching. Truth in thought, in action. Truth in change. Truth in knowing truth.
I like to think it is because I'm irritatingly mature and wise... instead of blind from the emotions and desires that everyone else experiences. I like to think that being unable to feel sexual urges means I am able to see further and past their distractions. Not that I am placing substitutions for a very real, very true set of thoughts I'll never experience. I like to think I know better, and am not just missing the possibilities the "shallowness" I so deride, has to offer.
Similarly, I realized in middle school that I didn't understand what sex had to do with marriage. Marriage was living together, so there were all kinds of things like enjoying each other's company, agreeing on values, caring for the household, that made sense. But why, why on earth, was sex some sort of important thing for living together in marriage? And for that matter, what was it about rape and cheating that was so terrible. I mean, beating and forcing was wrong, but why is rape so much worse? Especially if it was actually less physically harmful. And cheating. How could love be tied to sex, and how so much so that having sex with another would ruin someone's love?
That still, is... incomprehensible and disturbing to me. Is sex so important? Or is love so unimportant?
What awful propositions.
Company, trust, sharing, values, worldviews, and even lifestyle seem more important. So why is love described as based on irrational attraction and desire above all else. (they even have the insolence to call it true love, of all things) What a needlessly ugly world when we could pay attention to much more meaningful beautiful concepts in how we relate and love each other.
And I am the one who is different. It seems a cruel joke.
Temporary fin. I am missing much of the picture, but I have nothing more to offer on it now. I hopefully will return to add at another time. Particularly the specifics of being ace, both idealistically and physically and sympathetically and more.
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