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Thursday, December 17, 2009

Start / Stop / Pause / Play / Repeat



What does it mean to love someone, but not be in love with them?

Is it some sort of emotional consolation prize? "Oh, I really like you... but not that much. I mean, you're great and all -- just don't get your hopes up."

The sheer condescension is insulting. As if a person needs the reassurance that it was a close tie between them and... whoever else you're fucking. And it doesn't even make sense! What's the difference between Love and being in love? Is it that little modifier which changes an action to a state of mind, like Love is some philosophical persuasion you can just put on to wear at any time.

Sometimes the cracks between relationship definitions contain more people who've slipped through a long time ago than anyone previously thought.

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Never understood how people are lovers that aren't really together. Have they divorced love from love-making, or maybe just body from soul? Is it that fucking really lives up to its name as glorified masturbation with intervals of cigarettes and conversation? Because when you love someone you refrain out of the experience that sex is for a fling and abstinence for the real thing. (Girls do this on the daily, gentlemen.)

Underneath the bar-tables I can see women playing pocket-pool while the guys fondle their breasts, and yet, when two people genuinely care about one another, it's as if sex ceased to exist. And people wonder where the passion went!

Either / Or. This / That. One / The Other. Emotional vs Physical. Love vs. Lust. The great showdowns always come in pairs of opposites.

Is it then that to be in love with someone is to be the former aspect, and to love someone is to be the latter? Or is there something else I'm missing... ? The confusions inherent in the system leave me with more unanswered questions than any satisfaction can bring.

Behind the scenes I know there's an explanation to this plot-twist of Love as action and Love as being. Maybe some deus ex machina that resolves everything like a Shakespeare play. Maybe somewhere there's a subtlety I'm not understanding -- a part to piece to broken whole of hearts that play at romance like a movie. Nevermind the journey. They just want the ending. Closing scene kiss and... roll credits, please!

As an expert in the study of Romantic-Comedies, I know these things. As an experienced people-watcher as well as survivor of Life, Love, and all things related, I feel eminently qualified to shove my opinions down throats like a plumber's RotoRooter.

Even the self-aware make mistakes, only worse, because they do it knowingly. Able to see the exact moment where they fuck it all up, cursing epithets that sailors would envy and denying they'll do it again. Oh, but they do. They always do.

I've seen it. Hell, I've been it.



What's worse isn't the tragedy of repeating mistakes that others have made, but to be that cliche you said you'd never be.

So what keeps this flywheel spinning? What powers the circumstances that create these sorts of situations? The kind where two people love each other but aren't in love with each other. The kind where timing is more important than feeling. The kind where convenience controls romance. The kind where there's no such thing as a happy ending, only a long stretch of middle that decrescendos before you can even realize your life is about to end.

The kind where there's no such thing as Love.

Some days I pray for it to rain even though I hate the rain because I'd rather be washed away honestly, instead of by the measures of lost hopeless romantics. Some days I pretend to be cooler than I really am, especially when someone cooler than me starts talking about all the cool things they've done recently. (Like how they totally got tickets to XX, went rock-climbing, and then VIP at some SoMa club.) Some days I write in my notebook just to look busy when a beautiful woman walks by in the desperate hope that she'll see me as intelligent/interesting/cute/do-able and stop to talk to me. Some days I deliberately hide in my room so the world doesn't have to see my five-day stubble. Some days I eat shellfish and feel like a bad Jew. Some days I listen to the conversations of strangers and laugh at inappropriate moments that reveal I was eavesdropping. Some days I blow balloons made of condoms and throw them at the neighborhood children outside my window. (This does not go over well with the neighbors.) Some days, when I'm really really depressed, I reorganize my keychain collection.

This makes no sense with the rest of my post, but it's important to say, so I say it. Just listen, instead of waiting for your turn to speak, and maybe it'll make sense after a few readings.



Cheers

2 footnotes:

tuleep said...

There is no explanation.

There is no logic behind how love is handled, felt, and defined these days. The fact that sex and LOVE are being separated into independent entities is all there is to say.

People's view of relationships these days is so fucked up it's not even funny. When my friend meets someone and is making out with him after a couple flirtatious games of beer pong and calls it a love interest? It's sad. The reason you're so confused with all of this isn't because there is an explanation you haven't found. It's because it isn't the way things should be.

It isn't being a prude; it isn't holier than thou morals; it's not having a stick up your ass. It's self respect and the desire to create a functional and healthy relationship. Love as action and love as being should always be one and the same. And that's it.

Zek J Evets said...

@tuleep: i'm not sure... you say what a younger me used to feel, but after having experienced the shallowness in Life's great pool and met people who live there yet are real, genuine souls, it's hard now to dismiss my own doubt.

my problem is love should be an action. as a state of mind, it can exist, but doesn't really affect anyone but yourself. only the act of love/loving makes that feeling real in any sense of the word in any part of the world.

but yes. people are fucked-up when it comes to relationships. i'm not even sure how to be a boyfriend anymore. especially after these four years since my last.

i'll think on what you said... thanks for the comment.