The romanticism

 I am tired of myself..

Without romanticism or the intensification, there is no motive to pursue a goal in sight. Or a person to pursue. A materialist desire. 

The very attainment of that goal is the beginning of the sorrow and sob phase where the original stories cooked to make the pursuit happen, comes crashing. It's obvious. 

I can't seem to function any other way. 

Even ordinary exchanges with day to day basic life activities: I inflate a doll for each of them and have a very intense/dense/serious conversation with them (within my own mind). 

The aforementioned people in actual don't treat themselves that seriously, but I am so addicted to this vividity. 

Simple, casual socializing with a second person..

Or a content togetherness with a close person, as in a relationship.. 

The core self of me is so in an ugh mode when the social self is pretending to perfect that social image and the post mortem of the event is "better to be alone than in this low quality exchange" 

Even when I was in a serious relationship with someone a decade back, the same. 

I took the effort to be what a partner should be, except that the other side couldn't scale up to the intensity that I had. 

It felt pointless to be in that dynamic because I felt very alone: the I here is the core self. 

The sincerity and thoroughness in the participation of the self. 

I push myself as much as possible and the other side can't really hold on beyond a point.

This is no 'I am superior' ego bloating exercise: I am observing what I am and what I am doing to myself and others. 

In the interaction with the doctor, I was so attracted to the assumption that she is brilliant (because, doctors are!) and so that idealized image of hers took precedence over the actual self in the interaction.

But then, consider how a normal relationship is formed: appearances or some hooking mechanism and then getting to the companionship of the other side over a period of time where the human side of either of them find a connect. 

In my case, it was her profession that was that driver of the relationship. The human side (vulnerability) turned out to be boring. The being open to each other worked, but the lack of intensity in that exchange took steam out of that exchange. 

That romanticist or the intensifier.. that governor of me. If I am to keep him, then I will lose everything that's in the normal path of a human being on earth. 

For a while I have voluntarily ceased to engage in the real world (with interpersonal relationships) in that capacity, for now I knew what I am doing with myself and others. It's a needless tragedy or a loop to engage in. 

If I am to go solo for the rest of my life, the prime cause is the above. The probability of finding someone who could understand the intensity of my functioning and setting sail for the long run: it didn't happen till now and the probability of it happening in the future is limited owning to the phase of life I am in right now and the restlessness or impatience to sit and work through the same, yet again with another woman. 

Time is precious. Shouldn't tolerate a functional mediocrity for the sake of social acceptance; rather accept one's own quirkiness, whatever extreme it maybe and slog through the rest of the decades. 

"He who has a why, can bear any how"