Hmm. April 11th was the last time I wrote. Kind of strange... but as I said before, it's just because I've found so many alternate avenues to express myself. But right now I don't have much of an avenue. I've just been writing a memo for psychology on a video we saw about um, a bunch of teenagers who liked to have orgies. It was a mess of a situation. And then I wrote a bit for my book. But watching that video and realizing the mechanical lifestyle they had, made me glad for the tender memories I have from my past.

Although I don't usually value them daily, I am very happy to have that intimacy and tenderness between friends and lovers. I'm nostalgic for the warmth of the experiences. But I'm not just missing them, I'm happy to know that they exist in my past, that my past is not the same as the teenagers from the video. And I'm eager to have new experiences... I just want to kiss somebody. Somebody who I feel tenderly for.

Which brings me to John, not that I care for him tenderly, but tenderness reminds me of him because he's so damn endearing. I don't particularly like much about him, not to be spiteful or resentful - it's just the simple truth that I'm not attracted to very much, I dislike or disagree with most of his behavior and beliefs. Except for when they're infused with that tenderness that just speaks to me. It just latches on to my heart.

I hesitate to say sweetness, because in my experience, sweetness has been false sentimentality. Or sentimentality that turned out to be false, in any case. But this is not sentimental, it's just tender. It's just something that I'm warmed by witnessing and soothed by participating in. It's drawn me to him ever since the very first conversation on aim.

I think I'm attracted to the idea that he feels tenderly for me. His emotions are not stable, but it's not really about his emotions. It's just about that tender quality. I don't even want to describe it because describing the actions won't describe the sense of it, the tenderness that can only be experienced not explained.

I've said a lot of things about John in the past, and I've given a lot of reasons or justifications as to why I was attracted to him. I haven't wanted to date him. I did, before I really knew him. But I haven't wanted to date him since. But when he was interested in me, there was just something that grasped my focus, and I didn't want to pass up the opportunity to experience it. And it wasn't attention or sentimentality or sex. It was just that tenderness. As sweet as when Isis hugs me, only John is conscious of his actions so they're infused with intent where Isis is missing it.

What I'm trying to say is, I don't want John, but he seems to be the only one with that tenderness. I don't know where else to get it. It doesn't seem ideal, intellectually or spiritually. I don't really know what it has any value for me. But there's something soothing about it. I think it's not even wrought with emotions, per se. Emotions usually stem from an analysis and a conclusion, sentimentality associated with situations and people. It's so drawn out like a map, identified. It's about purpose.

Perhaps tenderness surpasses emotion. Because emotion is based on conclusions but tenderness is based on something you simply accept and feel for because of it. For instance, Dan always makes a big deal about his love for me. It's a serious issue, seemingly. But it's based on conclusions, so I suppose if the circumstances changed, he may not want to be with me as much.

Truthfully, the circumstances have already changed for me. There isn't a necessity for Dan in my life. I can live without him. It doesn't mean I don't love him, because it's not longer an emotion based on a conclusion for me to love him. It's not about what situation I desire to experience. It's just a tenderness that I feel for him sort of independent and unconditional of the realistic circumstances. I don't feel tenderly for him, because I want to have his babies, or I want to spend every moment with him. It used to be that way, more directly tied to my emotions and my needs and wants.

But now it's just something I've accepted as a sort of unconditional fact. I just feel tenderly for him. The moment is not worth anything because of it's emotional ramifications. It's just a loving tenderness that is expressed in the moment, but largely independent from reality.

I didn't care about John in the larger sense. But I wouldn't trade holding hands with him while I drove him home for anything. It was just a tender moment. It wasn't like, I LOVE YOU, YOU MEAN THE WORLD TO ME, NEVER LEAVE ME! It was just a, granted, expressed but simple tenderness that meant something for the moment itself.

I like those tender moments. As I said, they soothe me.