Love your neighbor, not luuuuuuv your neighbor.

Today I spent eight hours on my job hunt, just like you’re supposed to. Looking for a new job is your new job, and you have to do it eight hours a day like any job to see results. I’m hoping this is true and not bs. I had a few good leads, made a few good decisions, wrote a fair amount of networking emails.

For some reason, even when I spend time with my son, he’s grumpy at me like he’s mad that he doesn’t get to see me that often. I have a feeling it’s going to take more than just one afternoon out for lunch and ice cream. Nonetheless, I feel good spending as much time with him as I did. Hopefully, things will get better between him and I. While I knew I was detached from other humans, it never occurred to me that I’d be detached from my own son – but he’s out there, a foreign object like everyone else.

There are very few ways for me to connect with a person from outside my eyes. One way that I’ve found is through sex. It’s like, that’s one of the only ways I can see their eyes, and then they can see me. Because of that, sex can mean very little, but it can still mean everything. Depends on the emotion attached to it. It can be a good bonding experience between friends. Being with one person really puts us in our own little bubble because I don’t connect with anyone else. It’s a lonely kind of monogamy, or a romantic kind of monogamy, depending on your outlook. I go back and forth. Being online allows me to have close relationships that I need (everyone needs friends), without going outside of my monogamous relationship. It works, for the most part, but what I need to do is spend more time with my mate and son – which I have already started making an effort to do.

This brings me to a quandary. What about relationships where sex isn’t a variable? I mean sure this means co-workers, bosses, teachers at my kid’s school, neighbors, etc. (I’m not a *whore* HAHA…ha. meh. Shut up.)  I just assume that those are the people that I speak to in a disjointed manner, and try to bring along my mate to do some human translating for me. But what about my son? How do I connect with him so that I can see him outside my eyes? These days when I try to connect…he can tell. He turns away from me or tries to hit me. It reminds me of the story I was told about when kids first start going to preschool and how they can show anger toward the caregiver instead of excited happiness when they are picked up in the afternoon. I’m here, but as my mate says, I’m not –here-.

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