Just when I thought there was nothing left to blog about.

I miss Kris. He was the last boyfriend I had that I didn’t settle for.

Settling is when you know someone likes you, so you give it a shot in the hopes that you will like them too. You like them and you WANT to “like them” like them because it fits, because you’re lonely, because you’re both attractive, single and spend time together, because everybody else figures it’s a good idea, because it’s about time, because you two make sense together, because if he’s such a great friend how big is it a stretch to lovers? Sometimes I’ve even learned to love these endeavors, such as Zander and Harold, for the qualities you learn to value as important. They are like acquired tastes, like opera, abstract art and beer, but perhaps more profound interests because you learn to love them on a deeper level that involves a part of who they are as a person that draws and attaches you to them. Still they are never the man you just plain fell for, never the man who caught your eye from across the room, never the man you grind and shake for, imagining your naked body next to while still on the dance floor. These kinds of feelings are reserved for men like Kris.

It may not have worked out, but I remember the relationship we tried out: days so full of “I love you” comments as comfortable as “Pass the salt”, experiencing the first comfortable silences between two people, and finding someone that thought about me as much of the time as I spent thinking of them. I was however, unwilling to relocate to the Swiss countryside while he completed his education without a ring on my finger. I do remember the majority of times he went flaccid when I loved, craved and would do anything for this hot, young man to make love to me. I remember him having emotional meltdowns at functions with my friends who called him “Crybaby Kris.” Ours was not a smooth functioning relationship.

I’ve given in to settling in part because there have been no Kris’ lately; nothing longer than a seductive stare across a bar, but also because I wonder whether the pursuer has the brighter idea, done the better math and knows what’s best for both of us. Since I know I have horrible taste in men and have proven I can learn to love someone, is passionless settling what I’m destined for?