The Butterfly Effect

Whitney:

For the past 4.5 months, I have enjoyed a rapid and frenzied pace of meeting the online pool of fine gentlemen from about 8 or 9 different sources (a friend and I counted last night!). As events, the dates themselves have been everything: easy, earnest, educational, effusive, exciting, erotic, exquisite, enjoyable, empty. As a result, I have become somewhat of an e-dating afficionado. The truth is, most of these men are just so delectable--that the crossing of our respective paths was facilitated by the internet is really quite a marvel. I find the whole system to be completely awesome (and I mean that in the most gigantic way).

Lately I've been scarce in the blogosphere because I found myself lost in a Bermuda Love Triangle (BLT), the particulars of which are not suitable for public consumption (No, I didn't go to Bermuda). However, I can comment on the issues that have arisen from these deeper trysts. They include exit strategies, commitment, trying to postpone the Defining the Relationship (DTR) conversation as long as possible (I'm serious.), and finally, navigating the tight-rope balance: should one pursue those elusive butterflies that punch you in the stomach and knock you senseless and ecstatic? or subscribe to slow, deliberately-timed interactions which make good sense, are not daunting, imposing, or scary, but also don't afford the heart much buy-in? Emotions vs. Logic. Heart vs. Brain. You know what I mean.

I already know that we risk what we value. For now I am risking a lack of butterflies in favor of the cerebral approach. To wit: I don't even know what the butterflies mean. Periphescence? Probably. Sustainability? Jury's out. Metamorphosis? Perhaps... As an entymologist-wanna-be, I'll assert that unbeknownst to most, butterflies secretly possess tiny little fists at the ends of their wings, which they use to pummel your solar plexus into delirious, giddy, smitten submission (or worse/better!).

Oh, don't be mistaken: I am still out there, and it is painful and marvelous, but I conclude so far that people are weenies! Butterflies don't make us fall in love! That can only occur in the absence of doubt, fear, and questioning-- quite a feat when we're confronted with a hugely glorious and unnamable something we can't quite comprehend. And yet, in spite of that, I don't honestly believe that there is much room for logic in the face of such enormity of feeling. (Don't worry-- the irony of the fact that I am trying to compartmentalize and analyze and label all of this here and now is not lost on me...)

Nevertheless, even still, at least for now, rationality shall remain a (n albeit meager) tool while my solar plexus prepares itself for the next round of beatings.