Analyze this...

I think relationships are beautiful things. Sometimes they can leave me wondering how two people could have possibly met and stuck together, sometimes it breaks my heart to see it end.

I like to think of myself as a collector of many things. I'm a pack-rat, both in my room, and in my relationships. I haven't had many relationships with men, in that I've only had a couple actual boyfriends in my lifetime, and none all that recently (though some may disagree).

Love confuses a person. Sex can too, but if you play it right, it can be a reassuring thing. It can distract you from other emotions that may not deserve such attention.

Having a social life can do this as well, but I don't have much of a social life. I have more of a sex life, somehow, and I suppose it's how I managed one without the other that I am writing this blog.

Like I said, relationships fascinate me, and I suppose it's this small obsession that has managed to convince Karma to send some of the strangest relationships imaginable my way.

For a long period of time, some of my closest friends were in their thirties and forties, and it never struck me as odd, though it did strike my mother.

The men I became involved with have, save for one, always been after they've dated (or tried dating) a friend of mine. Or they were related to a friend of mine. Either way, with most of the people I have been with, our paths had crossed before in already intimate ways.

Details on these relationships will remain a little vague, but anyone who knows me knows what I'm talking about. I've always found it humourous that I've attracted these sorts of things, and I'm still dumbfounded when they happen again and again. I'm always surprised, pleasantly surprised, even if it hurts sometimes. Makes for a great life story, someday I'll write it all out.

Everyone has a story, everyone has some messed up friendships that, logically, shouldn't have ever occurred, yet managed to sneak in there. It's tracing those lines, finding the entry-ways for these black horse relationships that catches me, every time a new one comes up and develops into something big, I feel a combination of euphoria, amazement, and sometimes incredible depression at it all.

I like taking those adventures. 

but it can come at a cost... 

Familial relationships have been another matter with me. A person hardly has to know me long to figure out that I'm not a hugger... But in fact, I am. I come off as a cold, distant person, but one thing I love more than anything is the touch of another person. Even if I jump at the touch of someone else (usually just the first one, of anything resembling a poke), it's only because of how little of it I get, relatively. There are different ways to touch. I mentioned earlier my prevalent sex life, so a person might think "Emily, isn't that touching?"

Yes, yes, it is, and sure, I like that kind too. But of course I'm talking about the Intimate touch, a caress, a brush, a hand on the back, or wandering fingers.

So I like to try and trace back to when I developed that stand-offish projection, even among those who are supposed to know me best... and I realize that maybe they aren't too far off.

I don't LIKE being called Cold, but considering my ideals about touching other people, or opening up to anyone (the ideals being that I reserve those two things for when I really feel safe with someone, which is rare), I understand it a bit better.

I like to imagine that I'm blind.

It's the only way I can make myself reach out into the world.