I associate love with a certain scent, a smell that is somewhat sweet and carries a subtle hint of vanilla, it’s hard to pinpoint it exactly. I suppose that this is a unique quality belonging to me only and that the association I have with this particular smell is also quite unique, meaning that not a lot of other people share it with me. Although it would be interesting to figure out whether or not others associate a certain smell to the overall concept of love, it’s not something I wish to explore at this point in time…I don’t think it matters for my recent studies.

What’s typical is that during certain times of the year the smell I mentioned is somehow inside my head, typically during the months March and April and as luck would have it, today is the fourth of March. Luck is a bad word for this particular phenomenon in all honesty, although the association is supposed to be nice all it really does is fill me with a strange sense of melancholy that I have difficulty placing in any context whatsoever. It makes me feel a tad uneasy and this in turn limits my creativity to an unwanted extent and thus writing or even thinking clearly about anything becomes more difficult during such days. I don’t think I have much of a choice in all of this, the only thing I can think of doing that is mildly satisfactory is the concept of “just riding it out” and put my work in the back of my head for a little while. This is by no means a pleasing conclusion to me, but one that appears to be inevitable.

I guess there really is no point in writing this either, aside from just getting stuff out there and hopefully sparking, on an unconscious level, mechanism that can more adequately deal with these feelings and pending failure. But that is mainly speculation dripped in vanity, and holds absolutely no factual information of any kind, it’s merely a wish hidden in an educated guess. Perhaps this can serve as a bit of a reflection tool for things that have passed and appear to be related to this stagnating feeling.

My first love began quite a few years ago, I don’t even reliably remember the exact year and the end is of a similar nondescript nature in my mind. During those years I was still fairly normal, heh, which means that I tried harder at keeping my faults to a visible minimum and also that my rigid behavior hadn’t yet completely kicked in. As life would turn, my structural approach to life and the need for it began to develop a little later although small things such as waking up at exactly the same time each day, planning breakfast to the very minute and so on, were already part of how I lived. Anyway, I first encountered this girl when I switched from playing recreational badminton to the actual competitive level. Badminton was a sport I was really good at and something I thoroughly enjoyed, although the competitive nature of the game would eventually end up in my leaving the sport.

My eyes fell on a relatively short blond girl and as it turned out her eyes fell on me partially as well, after I initiated contact. This contact culminated into an actual date to the movies, we watched I Robot in fairly deserted theater. I have frequently embellished the events that occurred during the date, mainly because I was an insecure individual those days but suffice it to say that absolutely nothing happened at all. I froze up and she wasn’t talkative either so in all I suppose one could say that the date equaled disaster, I have always believed that it did. I wish I could end the story on a highly dramatic note with a valuable life lesson at the ending, but the truth is that I began to lose interest, as did she, and after I quit playing badminton I lost sight of her completely. To the best of knowledge she has probably rounded up her professional education by now and that’s basically all I can tell you.

Although actual memories of the girl don’t haunt me, the concept of my absolute failure to connect to another human being does so occasionally. Of course this changes on the individual level and I am better around certain people but still, that data is a painful reminder of how dysfunctional I can get. I suppose that it is this failure that I associate with romantic love that fills me with melancholy when experiencing the smell I mentioned to you in the beginning of this writing. There is nothing I can do about it at this point and in my opinion it would be a considerably bad idea to change the past just to forget a lesson. In my life right now there is no room for another person to bond with on such a level and that’s fine with me, I doubt that will ever change again. This does not necessarily mean that I don’t want a romantic relationship (although it’s not my top priority) it means that I’m being realistic about who I am and who one needs to be (roughly) to make a relationship work. Suffice it to say, I’m a bit skeptic when it comes to my performances in that particular area.

I guess this time is good enough to stop my musing and get back to a perhaps more productive performance…there are some puzzles I still want to crack anyway, so the time off for my writing is perhaps not the worst of things. And if you really analyze the situation, this “lack of creativity” has allowed me to create this writing. It’s amazing what can inspire a person.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 4th, 2009 at 5:53 pm and is filed under Introspection, blog. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.