Recently, I've been thinking a lot about the "one". This could be the result of a recent breakup from said "one" or after watching one too many back-to-back seasons of Sex and the City. Either way, it started working on me like a Russian gangster.
Why is it that we, and by we I mean girls (and some guys), are so obsessed with the idea of the "one" when we all know that one is never enough? Why do we allow ourselves to get so emotionally involved that we morph euphoria into jealousy and allow our daydreams to turn into expectations?
Why does bumping biscuits have to mean anything more?
Why is our concept of love so flaky - so... untrue to itself?
And why do we repeat this cycle of bullshit? Surely after enough hurt you have to take a step back and ask what's going wrong. Why doesn't this work out, what's missing or better yet, what have I missed?
Ask yourself honestly, what's does love mean to you.
The dictionary's definition of love can be summarised as a state of extreme fondness, yet pick up any book on spirituality and the concept is about wanting only happiness FOR OTHERS. It never says, to "feel loved you need to be loved by another", it says "love yourself". And, granted we do when we're single and, or, recovering from the heartbreak caused by a previous lovescapade turned titanic, but as soon as we find a piece of ass we'd like to take home to meet the parents, we project these gigantic expectations on to them and call it love. We rely on their verbal and physical affections to quantify our worth or lovability. We stop giving ourselves our love and start fixating it onto someone else and with disastrous consequences. Worst of all, time and time again we have to deal with the gut wrenching hurt that we call disappointment as a result of not giving ourselves and another the freedom to just be because we're too busy trying to fit them into our idea of who they should be.
Enter perceived rejection, judgement, criticism, defence, conflict, drama, control games, power struggles, twisting of the truth to suit your story, lies, manipulation, anger, hurt, resentment and eventually after you've successfully managed to fuck each other up enough, a breakup.
And then we do this all over because we watch way too many movies where relationships are perfect (guys are the ideal combination of manly, hot and sensitive - the coup de grace of desirability - and girls wake up looking like knockouts and no one ever seems to worry about having not brushed their teeth before engaging in missionary morning sex) and everyone lives happily ever after. This seems to be the template we use as a reference point for our relationships and it couldn't be more unrealistic or more destructive.
Let's face the fact. There is no "one", there are no such things as soulmates, we are all connected and yes, sometimes when you're really close to someone you guys can pick up on subtleties - know what the another is thinking and so on - but fuck, you can have that with anyone. Bottom line is, love, the kind of intensity we see on TV that has most of the female population in hot pursuit, doesn't exist because we've confused infatuation (which never lasts) with love and we call it being "in love".
I don't believe love is intense, or demanding, or anything other than completely accepting, gentle and understanding. Love is something unconditional, it doesn't get upset when he/she doesn't call because love, real love, can only be love.
Moral of the story - Don't fall, or at least try not to but if you have to fall for something, fall for yourself or down a few stairs and get a little perspective...
The end. For now.
xoxox
My favorite topic! nice work dig your blog , maisha... james w (plett)
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