My grandmother is dying. Or may be dead at this moment. I'm not sure. No matter what, she's not making it past the next couple of days. And I've decided school is more important than saying goodbye because I've been told she can't hear anything anyway. I can't reconcile myself to this. At all. This is destroying me.
I've elected to put myself to sleep with the following: tequila, beer, then vodka. Throw in some Avett Brothers, and shit is really breaking down.
This is entirely selfish on my part. But I can't put all this together. I dealt with my maternal grandmother's death way better than this. This is a step-grandmother, but she lived right across the street. She was always there. I can't deal with this. And this house is empty. And I feel so isolated. And I absolutely hate the fact that I feel so selfish. I can't comprehend what it means to lose a parent. But I've imagined it. Way too often.
I just want somebody to love me.
Death makes no sense to me. I mean, I get it. It makes sense in a general sense. But this, this crushes me to an extent I can't describe. It makes me want to pull everyone I love close to me, hug them, tell them there is nothing more important, but I have no idea how to do that. It makes me feel awkward. It makes me feel like nothing is real.
Look, I will never be the person people want me to be. I am selfish and scared. I will always sabotage myself. I don't want to, but I will. I will never be as calm as I imagine, I will always fuck shit up. But for once, I want this to mean something: this fucking hurts.
I'm crying. I can't stop. I miss everything. Somebody say something. Somebody call me. I love my family.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
One.
This entire idea is based on the following assumption: we do not have any understanding of what it means to be in a relationship, and this is because of pop culture. If you find that to be quite an absurd statement, then feel free to stop reading. If you think this will only be a random guy's lament about his failures in relationships, I can't really stop you from assuming that, but I certainly hope that is not what this is. However, I can see your point in such thinking.
"We do not see things as they are; we see things as we are."
Part 1: What is Attraction, Or What Do You Think of Tyra Banks?
The ironic thing about attraction is we believe, because each person has specific criteria, that it exists as a highly personalized and individualistic thing. We already know based on evolution (both in us as humans and us as humanity [culturally]) that there are fluctuations in what is considered attractive by people, in general: child rearing probability, pheromones, Victoria's Secret. Big hips were once considered the most attractive thing on a woman because it meant they should be capable of bearing many children. Medieval love letters were adorned with sweat because such musk was considered sexually enticing. What an African tribesman considers beautiful does not necessarily make a Canadian look twice. However, in each situation, what is important that each's version of attractive still remains a construct of that person's immediate culture, which means even this individualistic taste in somebody derives directly from a confluence of external stimuli. Who you are attracted to has been determined by when you were born, where you were born, what you have been exposed to. Because child birth is not seen as necessary to a complete relationship, large hips aren't rated as high, in general. Instead of sweat, there is cologne, perfume. Therefore, it becomes impossible to separate what type of person you are attracted to from the type of person who has been constructed around you on a day-to-day basis from your early childhood. It's not individual. There are reasons: your parents, your friends, television, movies, songs. Each of these things influence how you view the world, and included within your world view is attraction. It is impossible to delineate between the external importance of either aesthetic desire or moral understanding. If one develops his/her moral understanding of the world from these very things, it stands to reason one develops his/her appreciation of beauty according to the same process. Who you are attracted to is a physical representation of what you have been taught to like. Even if you rebel against this, your rebellion still exists as a reaction against something you've been taught, which means your decision making still centers on your cultural construction. It is merely a denial, not a reversal.
I don't consider this a bad thing, but it does explain the overwhelming homogenization of relationships, and thus why it becomes difficult for many people to deal with the idea of dating outside of race, class, or culture. Essentially, a relationship becomes a way to define yourself, and if you date outside of that, you have stated quite clearly you are rejecting where you come from. Whether or not this is a conscious decision is irrelevant; the statement has been made, but the rebellion, again, derives from an rejection of what you know, not a brand new assessment of attraction. At no point will you be unaware of your crossing into something outside of your foundation; you may argue that it shouldn't be something that people care about, but because you have to actually think that, it proves homogeneity is seen as the most acceptable, and thus most successful, foundation for a relationship.
Did typing that last sentence actually end up depressing me, and did it end up actually being a total contradiction to the first sentence of that previous paragraph? Yes. However, I don't find it very surprising either. The idea of such cross-interaction becoming acceptable is predicated on an entire global cultural change, which I would have to seriously question as plausible. Even if someone considers himself an "open" person, all external stimuli must be sifted through internally. It is impossible to separate the external from the internal thought process. Each new thing becomes understood only by processing it through a personal historical perspective: your world is entirely shaped by your thinking. You cannot, in any possible way, stop making those connections while attempting to assimilate information. It makes us human. It's how we recognize each other; it's how we understand "this is my story" vs. "that was her story." Such personalization creates an infinite amount of interpretations of anything, an infinite amount of creation and ideas, but it is also why we seek out people like us, people with whom we feel comfortable sharing these ideas, to whom we are attracted. It is comforting to know we are not isolated in our own heads, but, realistically, we always are and always will be. There is nothing we know, no information of any sort which occurs to us, which has not been filtered through our minds. The connections we make out of that information, how we process it, how we come to conclusions is predicated on how our mind has been shaped, how it has been influenced. This is why everything about you is a construct. Being human is a construct. Culture is a construct. Beauty is a construct. And I'm okay with that. Usually.
This is completely derailing in what I think I intended its scope to be. The idea here is to realize attraction is a choice, but it is a choice based on a vast array of influences. These influences help to determine what exactly you look for in some other person. Understanding that process helps you to realize why it is you look for something. I believe, then, it becomes easier to understand why it is we try to establish relationships with people. Fundamentally, we all our individuals, but we are individuals based on cloud thinking: surrounded by outside sources with which we start to frame ourselves. Our parameters are the established boundaries of our immediate and overarching culture we have set-up or against which we push. Beauty then starts to become something more than just aesthetic appeal; it grows into a function of how we see the world and how we see ourselves. It is a new boundary to which we adhere.
What we don't like, however, is the idea that such aesthetics become a part of self-definition. The pursuit of beauty only makes sense when the word is capitalized, Beauty, and it becomes some pursuit of an over-romanticized artist. On average, beauty is seen as shallow, the surface, and to be concerned with such only means you lack the faculties to look beyond superficiality. But, if you are to see aesthetics as merely a section of how you are defined, a portion which has been pieced together from a variety of people, ideas, places, etc., then beauty is changed from something shallow into something which creates the possibility of knowing yourself better.
Part 2: Who Am I, Or What's the Point of Waking Up
I suffer from the crippling effects of being hyper self-conscious. It makes it nearly impossible to function in the standard world. As a result, I rely heavily on alcohol to overcome my general inability to believe anyone wants to listen to me speak; self-deprecation as a defense mechanism; and sarcasm as way to deflect any chance people may have of taking me seriously, about almost any topic, but mostly anything dealing with emotions. I am your standard language bully, always ready to mock anyone, especially those close to me, while failing miserably when it comes to any criticism or compliment about myself. I cannot deal with either. They both make me feel awkward, as if to have earned such a reaction demands that I in some way continue to reinforce my participation in such actions. And I really have no idea what that sentence means. I'm stopping this now. Possibly to be picked up later.
Part 3: Love Shackles All, Or Everything is Romeo and Juliet's Fault
This is where movies and television have ruined our ability to function in relationships. What we learn from them is that love is something which happens in a terminally organic fashion, and that it is constantly revived through dramatic actions. Love becomes something connected to peaking levels of stress and relief. I've already derailed. Allow me to start again, but keep this previous start in mind.
[I must insert a warning, or a head's up, or whatever: I've begun drinking tequila right about now. As I once said on the phone, "I'm a tequila ninja. We're a little sloppier, but we get the job done." This infers things may break down ever more than they already have. I'm nothing if not formal. 1 tequila, 2, tequila, 3 tequila, more.]
Two things about love: 1) according to science, and I don't have factual data to prove this other than some article I read once, probably in a dentist's office, the brain waves of a person in love match the brain waves of a person who just consumed a lot of chocolate. This can either be revelatory for those of you who enjoy chocolate way too much, or disappointing for those of you who believe being in love has no biological explanation; 2) it seems to me love is entirely dependent on where you are, therefore annihilating the idea of The One. Embracing this is the single most important factor in any relationship.
I have a pretty bad habit of falling for women really hard and fast. I am, and this pains me to type, almost desperate to be in love. That's not quite right. It's definitely part of it, but it's not "it" in totality. I struggle with an interesting battle between extreme self-hatred and narcissism. Actually, I don't find it that surprising. As someone who cripples himself by constantly isolating myself in my head, it only stands to reason my self-absorption would become a major factor in my life. Depression at this point in my life isn't something I deal with, it's something I have completely incorporated into my daily routine: "You must get out of bed. You must get out of bed." I suffer anxiety attacks, can't function around unknown people or large crowds, have no ability to make small talk, often decide people are talking about me, have paranoid delusions that family members have been killed or that a murderer is creeping around the house, fret if anyone realizes I'm collapsing yet often desire someone on whom I can spew my self-hatred. This is not something which renders me dateable (Is that a word? I'm sure it is not). [sidenote: this has nothing to do with anything at all, but I'm really starting to notice it as typing all this makes me hesitate and start running my hands through my hair and scratching my beard: my beard is starting to get so out of control that it actually looks fake. I can't explain this phenomenon but it is quite bizarre.] Also, as this whole essay can attest, I tend to over-think and over-analyze any aspect of pretty much any topic. Turn this habit of over-thinking everything into the early parts of a relationship, and it's not hard to figure out why I often get so many incredulous shakes of the head or why women stop responding to anything I say. I'm a mess, but that's only attractive if it is mysterious, not rambling and out of control.
However, and this however is not a defense mechanism, I don't in any way feel defined by all that. I don't think anyone should be defined by only one aspect of personality. What happens with women with whom I'm interested is I get relief from being in my head all the time. I don't want saved or changed or healed or any of that bullshit. Being with someone does, however, change what my focus is on. I don't see this as a bad thing. The person is not a crutch. I don't depend on anyone for happiness. It's a natural evolution: when there's something else to occupy my attention, then I'm not so isolated. It's not any different than a really good movie, being around friends, family, getting caught up in video games, etc. Why do I fall so hard though? That's simple: movies and The O.C.
According to standard Hollywood, love is something which just occurs. People become aware of it instantly, make drastic changes, and, after one typical fuck-up, there is a dramatic reversal and the love is saved. According to The O.C., relationships work best when something dramatic is happening because then you can prove your love. Drama equals validation. Are we all aware of this? Yes, for the most part. Do we think we don't do this? Of course. Is our entire view of relationships irrevocably changed by watching all of these things? Yes. Love has changed from something that is developed to something which is supposed to magically appear. You are to see someone, fall immediately, have no explanation, then devote yourself to recapturing that initial feeling by surviving a series of dramatic events. Love becomes something measured by peaks in stress and relief, as I said before.
Believe me, I'm aware that many people will argue this. However, think of this: when are you more aware of your love for someone? The first time you say it or after two years? I don't mean which one do you mean more; that's irrelevant here. I mean, which one do you feel more? This is vital to understanding relationships. This is the entire "honeymoon" experience. It's why people fear being "in a rut." People want to recapture the initial starcrossed feeling of the early relationship because we are constantly bombarded by movies and television shows which show this over and over. People are happiest, i.e., most in love, when things are constantly challenging them to prove their love. Our love lives have become standard recreations of things we witness on the screen. We want to be swept off our feet because we have been repeatedly told that that is what happens when you have met The One. You will just know and your life will change in ways which can only be explained spiritually, or by running around New York City like John Cusack in Serendipity. But The One is total bullshit (and this does not make me unRomantic).
Who you love is entirely dependent on where you are (although the rise of online dating sort of destroys this argument, but even then, you are on the internet which puts you in a specific place, even if it's not the same as saying a city, etc). Look at Serendipity or another classic piece of romance trash, The Notebook; these two movies' premises make me realize how disturbed our notions of love are. In both situations we have a person who abandons a pending marriage to run off to his/her "true soulmate." This needs to be contextualized: in both circumstances the abandoned lover is a good person. There is nothing which would say the relationship would fail other than the belief that a soulmate is a real thing. That's not an argument I can make. There's no way to prove soulmates do or do not exist. What I do know is, these soulmates met because they were in the same locale. Without being in the same place, they would have gone on in their loves, John Cusack's character would have married Tom Brady's ex, and Rachel McAdams' character would have married the military dude and there is absolutely nothing shown that tells the viewer these relationships would have failed. Yet, any woman I talk to about the movie (besides the jaded ones) all say those people chose the right people. Why do people think this? Because it's romantic, it makes love huge and dramatic. It makes the viewer believe in the possibility of a relationship which has no work, and that skews everything about what it means to actually be in a relationship. But we see it over and over, and that dramatic feeling starts to define love.
Look, I believe in love. But I also believe I would fall in love with someone if I lived in Miami, if I lived in Topeka, KS, if I lived in Portland (Oregon or Maine) which says to me love has more to do with the attraction construct than some mystical force. I've been in Ohio for a few years, and I've fallen for a few girls. Had I not lived here, I would have fallen for other women. It has nothing to do with some great dramatic force, but a construct of what I look for in a woman, and that can occur anywhere. Love is a construct, part of our world view. It's also why we often have a hard time deciphering between love and lust; attraction seems like lust, but it is the basis upon which we decide to pursue a relationship, to pursue love. It is all the same thing. And it is entirely dependent on where you are, who you are, how you've grown up, and the people around you.
This, to me, has nothing to do with romance, either. Or, it has everything to do with romance, but I'm not attempting to remove romance from love. I'm trying to understand the perception of love, its function in my culture, and what is actually a healthy version of it which succeeds. I see good relationships around me. I'm glad for them. I still wonder about them. It's what I do. I already said I fall hard. I've written thousand+ word emails in an attempt to capture what was in my head. I make mixed tapes / mixed CDs all the time. I am obsessed with the idea of listening to Sigur Ros while in a hammock. I fairly recently hung out with a girl I hadn't seen in a few years, and instantly adored her smile and her quiet ways. I have to refrain myself from sending her long long emails rambling on about nothing except the fact I'm looking for an excuse to have conversation. I realize that's just too much. And I realize it's considered intense, but I don't feel intense. It's my way of talking. Intensity takes time to develop, takes a real relationship. But the way I come off is intense because I, despite all my talk, am totally caught up in the idea of the drama of love. I want to say something breathtaking. Always. That one line which captures everything. I want to have A Moment. And I'm tired of typing this. I was going to talk about marriage, but I'll save that for later.
"We do not see things as they are; we see things as we are."
Part 1: What is Attraction, Or What Do You Think of Tyra Banks?
The ironic thing about attraction is we believe, because each person has specific criteria, that it exists as a highly personalized and individualistic thing. We already know based on evolution (both in us as humans and us as humanity [culturally]) that there are fluctuations in what is considered attractive by people, in general: child rearing probability, pheromones, Victoria's Secret. Big hips were once considered the most attractive thing on a woman because it meant they should be capable of bearing many children. Medieval love letters were adorned with sweat because such musk was considered sexually enticing. What an African tribesman considers beautiful does not necessarily make a Canadian look twice. However, in each situation, what is important that each's version of attractive still remains a construct of that person's immediate culture, which means even this individualistic taste in somebody derives directly from a confluence of external stimuli. Who you are attracted to has been determined by when you were born, where you were born, what you have been exposed to. Because child birth is not seen as necessary to a complete relationship, large hips aren't rated as high, in general. Instead of sweat, there is cologne, perfume. Therefore, it becomes impossible to separate what type of person you are attracted to from the type of person who has been constructed around you on a day-to-day basis from your early childhood. It's not individual. There are reasons: your parents, your friends, television, movies, songs. Each of these things influence how you view the world, and included within your world view is attraction. It is impossible to delineate between the external importance of either aesthetic desire or moral understanding. If one develops his/her moral understanding of the world from these very things, it stands to reason one develops his/her appreciation of beauty according to the same process. Who you are attracted to is a physical representation of what you have been taught to like. Even if you rebel against this, your rebellion still exists as a reaction against something you've been taught, which means your decision making still centers on your cultural construction. It is merely a denial, not a reversal.
I don't consider this a bad thing, but it does explain the overwhelming homogenization of relationships, and thus why it becomes difficult for many people to deal with the idea of dating outside of race, class, or culture. Essentially, a relationship becomes a way to define yourself, and if you date outside of that, you have stated quite clearly you are rejecting where you come from. Whether or not this is a conscious decision is irrelevant; the statement has been made, but the rebellion, again, derives from an rejection of what you know, not a brand new assessment of attraction. At no point will you be unaware of your crossing into something outside of your foundation; you may argue that it shouldn't be something that people care about, but because you have to actually think that, it proves homogeneity is seen as the most acceptable, and thus most successful, foundation for a relationship.
Did typing that last sentence actually end up depressing me, and did it end up actually being a total contradiction to the first sentence of that previous paragraph? Yes. However, I don't find it very surprising either. The idea of such cross-interaction becoming acceptable is predicated on an entire global cultural change, which I would have to seriously question as plausible. Even if someone considers himself an "open" person, all external stimuli must be sifted through internally. It is impossible to separate the external from the internal thought process. Each new thing becomes understood only by processing it through a personal historical perspective: your world is entirely shaped by your thinking. You cannot, in any possible way, stop making those connections while attempting to assimilate information. It makes us human. It's how we recognize each other; it's how we understand "this is my story" vs. "that was her story." Such personalization creates an infinite amount of interpretations of anything, an infinite amount of creation and ideas, but it is also why we seek out people like us, people with whom we feel comfortable sharing these ideas, to whom we are attracted. It is comforting to know we are not isolated in our own heads, but, realistically, we always are and always will be. There is nothing we know, no information of any sort which occurs to us, which has not been filtered through our minds. The connections we make out of that information, how we process it, how we come to conclusions is predicated on how our mind has been shaped, how it has been influenced. This is why everything about you is a construct. Being human is a construct. Culture is a construct. Beauty is a construct. And I'm okay with that. Usually.
This is completely derailing in what I think I intended its scope to be. The idea here is to realize attraction is a choice, but it is a choice based on a vast array of influences. These influences help to determine what exactly you look for in some other person. Understanding that process helps you to realize why it is you look for something. I believe, then, it becomes easier to understand why it is we try to establish relationships with people. Fundamentally, we all our individuals, but we are individuals based on cloud thinking: surrounded by outside sources with which we start to frame ourselves. Our parameters are the established boundaries of our immediate and overarching culture we have set-up or against which we push. Beauty then starts to become something more than just aesthetic appeal; it grows into a function of how we see the world and how we see ourselves. It is a new boundary to which we adhere.
What we don't like, however, is the idea that such aesthetics become a part of self-definition. The pursuit of beauty only makes sense when the word is capitalized, Beauty, and it becomes some pursuit of an over-romanticized artist. On average, beauty is seen as shallow, the surface, and to be concerned with such only means you lack the faculties to look beyond superficiality. But, if you are to see aesthetics as merely a section of how you are defined, a portion which has been pieced together from a variety of people, ideas, places, etc., then beauty is changed from something shallow into something which creates the possibility of knowing yourself better.
Part 2: Who Am I, Or What's the Point of Waking Up
I suffer from the crippling effects of being hyper self-conscious. It makes it nearly impossible to function in the standard world. As a result, I rely heavily on alcohol to overcome my general inability to believe anyone wants to listen to me speak; self-deprecation as a defense mechanism; and sarcasm as way to deflect any chance people may have of taking me seriously, about almost any topic, but mostly anything dealing with emotions. I am your standard language bully, always ready to mock anyone, especially those close to me, while failing miserably when it comes to any criticism or compliment about myself. I cannot deal with either. They both make me feel awkward, as if to have earned such a reaction demands that I in some way continue to reinforce my participation in such actions. And I really have no idea what that sentence means. I'm stopping this now. Possibly to be picked up later.
Part 3: Love Shackles All, Or Everything is Romeo and Juliet's Fault
This is where movies and television have ruined our ability to function in relationships. What we learn from them is that love is something which happens in a terminally organic fashion, and that it is constantly revived through dramatic actions. Love becomes something connected to peaking levels of stress and relief. I've already derailed. Allow me to start again, but keep this previous start in mind.
[I must insert a warning, or a head's up, or whatever: I've begun drinking tequila right about now. As I once said on the phone, "I'm a tequila ninja. We're a little sloppier, but we get the job done." This infers things may break down ever more than they already have. I'm nothing if not formal. 1 tequila, 2, tequila, 3 tequila, more.]
Two things about love: 1) according to science, and I don't have factual data to prove this other than some article I read once, probably in a dentist's office, the brain waves of a person in love match the brain waves of a person who just consumed a lot of chocolate. This can either be revelatory for those of you who enjoy chocolate way too much, or disappointing for those of you who believe being in love has no biological explanation; 2) it seems to me love is entirely dependent on where you are, therefore annihilating the idea of The One. Embracing this is the single most important factor in any relationship.
I have a pretty bad habit of falling for women really hard and fast. I am, and this pains me to type, almost desperate to be in love. That's not quite right. It's definitely part of it, but it's not "it" in totality. I struggle with an interesting battle between extreme self-hatred and narcissism. Actually, I don't find it that surprising. As someone who cripples himself by constantly isolating myself in my head, it only stands to reason my self-absorption would become a major factor in my life. Depression at this point in my life isn't something I deal with, it's something I have completely incorporated into my daily routine: "You must get out of bed. You must get out of bed." I suffer anxiety attacks, can't function around unknown people or large crowds, have no ability to make small talk, often decide people are talking about me, have paranoid delusions that family members have been killed or that a murderer is creeping around the house, fret if anyone realizes I'm collapsing yet often desire someone on whom I can spew my self-hatred. This is not something which renders me dateable (Is that a word? I'm sure it is not). [sidenote: this has nothing to do with anything at all, but I'm really starting to notice it as typing all this makes me hesitate and start running my hands through my hair and scratching my beard: my beard is starting to get so out of control that it actually looks fake. I can't explain this phenomenon but it is quite bizarre.] Also, as this whole essay can attest, I tend to over-think and over-analyze any aspect of pretty much any topic. Turn this habit of over-thinking everything into the early parts of a relationship, and it's not hard to figure out why I often get so many incredulous shakes of the head or why women stop responding to anything I say. I'm a mess, but that's only attractive if it is mysterious, not rambling and out of control.
However, and this however is not a defense mechanism, I don't in any way feel defined by all that. I don't think anyone should be defined by only one aspect of personality. What happens with women with whom I'm interested is I get relief from being in my head all the time. I don't want saved or changed or healed or any of that bullshit. Being with someone does, however, change what my focus is on. I don't see this as a bad thing. The person is not a crutch. I don't depend on anyone for happiness. It's a natural evolution: when there's something else to occupy my attention, then I'm not so isolated. It's not any different than a really good movie, being around friends, family, getting caught up in video games, etc. Why do I fall so hard though? That's simple: movies and The O.C.
According to standard Hollywood, love is something which just occurs. People become aware of it instantly, make drastic changes, and, after one typical fuck-up, there is a dramatic reversal and the love is saved. According to The O.C., relationships work best when something dramatic is happening because then you can prove your love. Drama equals validation. Are we all aware of this? Yes, for the most part. Do we think we don't do this? Of course. Is our entire view of relationships irrevocably changed by watching all of these things? Yes. Love has changed from something that is developed to something which is supposed to magically appear. You are to see someone, fall immediately, have no explanation, then devote yourself to recapturing that initial feeling by surviving a series of dramatic events. Love becomes something measured by peaks in stress and relief, as I said before.
Believe me, I'm aware that many people will argue this. However, think of this: when are you more aware of your love for someone? The first time you say it or after two years? I don't mean which one do you mean more; that's irrelevant here. I mean, which one do you feel more? This is vital to understanding relationships. This is the entire "honeymoon" experience. It's why people fear being "in a rut." People want to recapture the initial starcrossed feeling of the early relationship because we are constantly bombarded by movies and television shows which show this over and over. People are happiest, i.e., most in love, when things are constantly challenging them to prove their love. Our love lives have become standard recreations of things we witness on the screen. We want to be swept off our feet because we have been repeatedly told that that is what happens when you have met The One. You will just know and your life will change in ways which can only be explained spiritually, or by running around New York City like John Cusack in Serendipity. But The One is total bullshit (and this does not make me unRomantic).
Who you love is entirely dependent on where you are (although the rise of online dating sort of destroys this argument, but even then, you are on the internet which puts you in a specific place, even if it's not the same as saying a city, etc). Look at Serendipity or another classic piece of romance trash, The Notebook; these two movies' premises make me realize how disturbed our notions of love are. In both situations we have a person who abandons a pending marriage to run off to his/her "true soulmate." This needs to be contextualized: in both circumstances the abandoned lover is a good person. There is nothing which would say the relationship would fail other than the belief that a soulmate is a real thing. That's not an argument I can make. There's no way to prove soulmates do or do not exist. What I do know is, these soulmates met because they were in the same locale. Without being in the same place, they would have gone on in their loves, John Cusack's character would have married Tom Brady's ex, and Rachel McAdams' character would have married the military dude and there is absolutely nothing shown that tells the viewer these relationships would have failed. Yet, any woman I talk to about the movie (besides the jaded ones) all say those people chose the right people. Why do people think this? Because it's romantic, it makes love huge and dramatic. It makes the viewer believe in the possibility of a relationship which has no work, and that skews everything about what it means to actually be in a relationship. But we see it over and over, and that dramatic feeling starts to define love.
Look, I believe in love. But I also believe I would fall in love with someone if I lived in Miami, if I lived in Topeka, KS, if I lived in Portland (Oregon or Maine) which says to me love has more to do with the attraction construct than some mystical force. I've been in Ohio for a few years, and I've fallen for a few girls. Had I not lived here, I would have fallen for other women. It has nothing to do with some great dramatic force, but a construct of what I look for in a woman, and that can occur anywhere. Love is a construct, part of our world view. It's also why we often have a hard time deciphering between love and lust; attraction seems like lust, but it is the basis upon which we decide to pursue a relationship, to pursue love. It is all the same thing. And it is entirely dependent on where you are, who you are, how you've grown up, and the people around you.
This, to me, has nothing to do with romance, either. Or, it has everything to do with romance, but I'm not attempting to remove romance from love. I'm trying to understand the perception of love, its function in my culture, and what is actually a healthy version of it which succeeds. I see good relationships around me. I'm glad for them. I still wonder about them. It's what I do. I already said I fall hard. I've written thousand+ word emails in an attempt to capture what was in my head. I make mixed tapes / mixed CDs all the time. I am obsessed with the idea of listening to Sigur Ros while in a hammock. I fairly recently hung out with a girl I hadn't seen in a few years, and instantly adored her smile and her quiet ways. I have to refrain myself from sending her long long emails rambling on about nothing except the fact I'm looking for an excuse to have conversation. I realize that's just too much. And I realize it's considered intense, but I don't feel intense. It's my way of talking. Intensity takes time to develop, takes a real relationship. But the way I come off is intense because I, despite all my talk, am totally caught up in the idea of the drama of love. I want to say something breathtaking. Always. That one line which captures everything. I want to have A Moment. And I'm tired of typing this. I was going to talk about marriage, but I'll save that for later.
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