IFF Computer not responding, Prepare shutdown

missed-Adventures in lesbian dating….

IFF you say? What is that?

Identify Friend or Foe signal is something the military uses to determine “friends” from “enemies.”

Oh. So why are you blogging about that since you tagged this “Lesbian” and “Dating”

When you meet someone for the first time, they are just someone new. Spend some more time with them and maybe you even grow to be friends. But wait? There is a romantic interest developing inside you. Hurtling towards the sun from no control...

Lesbians aren’t usually grabbing or blunt about their intentions.(If you know one, send her my email.)

Since the default world is generally the heterosexual model for relations, on any given random gathering/occasion, odds are better that a guy has interest in a girl/girl has interest in a guy. They can flirt, stare at the chest, make-out with a lot less reservations than bisexual, gay or lesbians.

(Captain Obvious has let me know that if you are at a gay/lesbian bar this doesn’t apply.)

Getting back to the sorting friend from lover process….

Its average behavior to sort people quickly into a category. Stereotyping is a form of sorting.

You mean like the magic sorting hat in Harry Potter?

Yes, but you don’t send them to a different house….

“Hi friend A. Nice to meet you.”

(Such a great smile and intelligent. friendly thought)

(That perfume is making me light-headed and giddy. I bet those lips are nice to kiss. WARNING!)

Hull Breach IMMENENT!

I kinda smashed my IFF sender/receiver with a godbedamned hammer. I leave it around just so the occasional hissing circuits or muted static that randomly flows through it for entertainment value.

(This process did not involve an actual hammer. I guess I am basically numb to anything developing over rapid-panic-failure of friendships. I try to date without becoming friends. Its kind of like a sales person talking you into buying instead of renting after the first drive.)

 I really am that insecure. I fear losing friend more than death itself.

Why is this maddening reality something that exists? I was essentially ignored growing up. We moved a lot. When it came to the time of accepting myself as myself, what little bit of Stockholm syndrome family unit there was, disowned me leaving me further in the abyss.

To my friend reading this:

I would never compromise our friendship.

If something like this developed inside of me,

I have fought:

  • ten fold ignoring it,
  • one-hundred fold in dismissing it,
  • a thousand fold in scrutinizing it, and
  • a million fold in containing it.

That mistaken “wraith of romance” sitting in a corner will never be your issue nor will it be something I will nurture. I will let it writhe and die back to the root stock from where and whence it came from.

(Do all lesbians experience this?)

If you are my friend, its pretty much all I got. Know that I’d rather die than lose you. Taking secrets to the grave, or something like, that is not something I terribly enjoy but it keeps all of the room from emptying out.



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