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It’s all about the connection

The first eye contact, the first conversation, a familiarity, as if you have known each other for years. This person fascinates us so much when we first meet that we can’t get them out of our heads. Two souls found each other even though their lives couldn’t have been more different. And yet there are many similarities and the same character traits. We recognize so much of ourselves in this person. You’ll find the rest of the story in this blog on HornyEscots.

When the chemistry is right from the start, you feel a deep connection, a magical attraction that won’t let you go.

It looks like that cross each other every day, from which we can no longer turn our backs—thoughts like an open book without saying a word. There has never been anyone who made us laugh like this. Girls like us could listen to this person for hours and feel safe around them.
We get into a state of intoxication of emotions that we can no longer control at some point. We don’t want to rush anything lest we be left heartbroken. But we find it challenging to keep our distance. A desire that keeps growing. Reason grows quieter every day, drowned out by the heartbeat that sets its beat.

It doesn’t matter if we fall because we know how to get up again.

We only want to be close to this person and with all our senses. It could be the best of our lives if only for a moment. How much we would regret not having taken the chance.

All other thoughts are blocked out; there is no later, only now. We lose ourselves in the eyes of the other, satisfy our longing, and let ourselves fall. Two souls merge as if they have been waiting for each other for years. We feel a tingling all over our body; the pulse gets louder, and our breathing gets faster.

Carrying our hearts out without a shred of fear or insecurity. Risking everything just for the moment, hoping that the moment lasts forever.

If we’re lucky, it becomes a familiar path, two people who complement each other and become one. Hour-long conversations become therapy we didn’t know we needed. It was not knowing that we needed each other. Suddenly finding something you were never looking for, and how much you would miss it again.

How can we feel such intense love for someone we have just met?

Do rose-coloured glasses blind us so much that we completely lose touch with reality? A condition that cannot be explained. Was it love at first sight? Soul mates, lust or just hormone chaos? Maybe all together, perhaps none of the above.
But you don’t have to be able to explain everything in life.

You get dating fails every day: Why does my heart keep falling for the wrong people?

I feel like I’ve landed the lead role in Groundhog Day reboot when it comes to dating. Involuntary. But like Bill Murray, I seem to have to understand, learn, and change something first to finally get off this endless loop of emotional rollercoasters.

When everything fits

After a good six months of dating break – my little maltreated heart needed some time to recover after the last disaster – I dared again and jumped into the virtual dating pool at the beginning of the year. Thanks to Corona, there was hardly anything else to do. And again, I magically attracted him.

This one guy who catches me with his charisma, the way he talks, looks at me and courts me.
Everything was right from the start. Great conversations, a lot in common, and even the goals in life were congruent, and then this physical attraction couldn’t have been more excellent.

I didn’t want to fall head over heels for an idea of what could be possible but rather be sceptical of all the promises of a possible future together that were being offered because there were just too many, they were coming too fast, and my mind was swept all available alarm bells rang in unison and almost hysterically. I wanted to take it slow, yet my heart threw all its bad experiences overboard and threw itself into the water without a lifebelt.

I wanted to take it slow, yet my heart threw all its bad experiences overboard and threw itself into the water without a lifebelt.

I don’t know if my heart is suicidal or trusts my mind to leap after it with said lifebuoy under its arm and grab it by the collar as it paddles happily toward the all-consuming abyss of hell, believing it will find its long-awaited happiness catch sight of. It’s oblivious to any warning signs, even though I can only shake my head in unison with my sanity.

Why does this keep happening?

I don’t know how this crazy little heart manages to wreak havoc on myself, my mind and everything else that is me in the luggage on my life Titanic. Like a defiant child, it shuts everything out. It only sees and hears what it wants to see and hear. And when it has taken us all with it, kneeling before the shattered heap of its disillusioned ideal and washing my mind with all its pain, it asks me why this has to keep happening.

Honestly? If I knew, I would change something about it. I also wonder why. Why did someone have to kick in my emotional doors with full force again so I couldn’t close them anymore, only to hide behind their walls again? Why did someone have to hand me the ladder to climb up to him again and then push me and the ladder off the edge of the wall?

Why did someone have to kick in my emotional doors with full force again so I couldn’t close them anymore, only to hide behind their walls again?
I wanted to go slow. That we can get to know each other in peace. I know my crazy little heart; I know how fast it wants to jump five levels. But in this one case, I have no power over my poor naïve life-giver. If you give it what it longs for, attention, closeness and tenderness, it is as if it were bathing in Miraculix’s magic potion and absorbing it with every fibre. Then not a single reasonable thought has a chance.

Does the wall around the heart need to be stronger?

And every time I pick myself up from the ditch, dust myself off, and stagger dazedly back to my shattered emotional doors designed to keep my heart in check, I resolve to reinforce my door panels. Wood is followed by wood and eventually steel. Then another layer and another.

Until my little, crazy, naive heart can no longer perceive anything through her. No shouts, no kicks. Until no tool, no matter how sophisticated, finds a way to open my doors. Anyone who then wants to penetrate my heart must find another way.

I hope it doesn’t come to that at some point because I like my style and don’t want to lock my heart up.

I hope I can understand what I need to change to get more hearing from my seat before that. That heart and mind enter into an equal co-existence to benefit from each other. So that, at some point, we are no longer caught in our permanent loop. And so I’m on the road again. A few months have passed again; my mind has had a chance to train to face my heart. My heart attended another behaviour seminar and is regularly coached by friends. Let’s see where it ends.

When Dating Experiences Leave Their Marks – Is Real Love a Vain Quest?

Dating has changed over the past few years. Or maybe people have changed and not dating themselves? I cannot answer this question unequivocally. What is clear, however, is that things are different today. Different than back then and by no means better.

Love in the shadow of the ego

The search for the real. After genuine affection, interest, and a real connection, she seems doomed from the start. Love stands in the shadow of digitization, fast pace, unmanageable choice, and endless possibilities.

England, here we are. In dating today, the focus is no longer on the other person but oneself. We feel better about ourselves through another person, regardless of their needs. And if he might feel like shit about it.

For example, you made it almost two weeks. You gave me the impression for about 14 days that you wanted to get to know me. That I’ve piqued your genuine interest. It’s not about superficiality; it’s about depth. But then you showed up so quickly that I still wonder how you could endure the pounding pressure on your ears.

But it’s not just you. Can I blame you at all? Or do I have to complain to a society driven by the general pain of the world? With the inventor of social media, Tinder or even the smartphone? After all, every new thrill and ego stroke is just a click away. A single person no longer seems to be able to trigger the associated kick. No matter how hard he tries to do it. The filters are not enough in real life to achieve fire reactions.

Every new thrill, every new ego stroke is just a click away

I feel trapped in a vicious circle. My experiences over the past few years have left their mark on the amount of data on my smartphone and especially in my heart. So much so that I can only wave afar to the hope that future experiences will finally be different from past experiences. She nods and presses the corners of her mouth together.

No matter how beautiful the words, how much I like to feel the famous connection and how much I wish it were – it’s not real. Again not. It’s a short rush, the chase, a superficial streak. It is useless if the prey is killed and no longer wants to defend itself. She can no longer trigger the same ego boost she might have had a few weeks, days, or hours ago.

Has the longing for deep bonds long since subsided?

And yet, in this context, the question is whether people today simply no longer long for deep, long-term, solid connections after the real thing. Whether the attraction to the new and independence can be as strong as the feeling of being deeply, genuinely, and honestly connected to a person, the sad answer is: apparently yes.

I don’t know if these people never fall in love or ignore it when they do. Or if they, too, were overcome by their feelings, would they have the courage to get involved? To make yourself vulnerable. To open up and show that there may also be ugly things behind the happy selfies and perfectly staged Instagram photos. Because even these things cannot simply be blocked in genuine relationships.

The longing for deep connection is overshadowed by the fact that she always holds vulnerability on one hand and possible failure on the other.

And loss has become a foreign concept for today’s generation. Very few seem to have learned how to deal with and confront their vulnerabilities and weaknesses. They don’t even start since they are unprepared for the test; they don’t even start.
After all, the alternative is more straightforward: start a new game before it gets too tricky. Although only the simple levels are played through, there is no need to fear a boss.

Sometimes I wonder where I get the strength to set off again and again. Searching for the real seems so futile. The distrust that has grown from the numerous experiences of the past few years now weighs so heavily that I can hardly put one foot in front of the other. Sometimes I get sick while searching; sometimes, I almost laugh when I realize how much potential I’ve seen in people who, in the rearview mirror, look like caricatures of the people they want to be.

The distrust that has grown from the numerous experiences of the past few years is now so heavy that I can hardly put one foot in front of the other.

And if the real thing were to stand in front of me after all – would I still recognize it? Or wouldn’t my suspicions pile up high and low in front of him so I’d wave it off, tighten my lips, and move on? Would I, too, without realizing it, just be looking for the next prey, the next kick, the next caricature of what could be?

I don’t know. Despite the endless range of available information and experience, I seem to know less than ever. Egoland probably has that: Too much of everything and far too little.

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