I was sitting here in my bedroom not sleeping, and thinking about various things, and an insight struck me out of the blue. I tend to become attracted to perfectly wonderful women who seem to have a tragic flaw: they feel the need to "save" a man. Since I generally don't need that much saving, they generally don't get themselves as much attracted to me, either having found, or subsequently finding, a man who needs rescuing more than I do. What a crazy damned dynamic and yet it is a pattern in my life that becomes apparent once I became conscious of it. It's certainly not been every woman to whom I've ever been attracted but, damn, it's happened more than a few times in my life. Where did I pick up such a problematical tendency? What wacky false premise lies at the root of that habit? What the hell makes Florence Nightingale so damned attractive to me if I'm not looking to be saved myself?
On that note, I think I am finally going to crash out and get some sleep. Apparently, flashes of insight can be soporific. Who knew?