Of love and other demons

I doubt my capacity to love. To experience the crushing and elevating sensation that is supposed to sweep me off my feet. I´ve felt it moments before crashing right back down, like the whole sweeping off my feet was just slippery moss on the sidewalk. I´m tired of relationships built on "lets see if this works". It´s like seeing the rollercoaster from the wooden seat of a trolley train that goes around the park. I can´t help but feel that I want that which I don´t have. I want the excitement. The butterflies, the assurance, the feeling deep inside that this.is.it.

I refuse to believe that I´m shackled for the rest of my life to experiencing only the middle, the safe ground, the place where nothing is lost because nothing is risked. I don´t experience this feeling for my family, for my friends, for my partners. It´s like it´s blocked out and hidden. I don´t feel passion, love or devotion for work, for ideals, for a life plan that is meant to work out. I feel comfort. I feel sedated quietness.

What´s wrong with me? why can´t I just give and find my passion? Yesterday I sat down and tried to imagine my future. I was in a beautiful and modern apartment, my cat curled up nearby. I had friends and social events. But no one romantically involved in my life. Funny. I imagine my future and it has me alone, going solo, cats as company. I can´t imagine anyone that would fit into that.