Go away! I don't love you anymore: I decided. It's supposed to be that simple. If you ever decide to love me, too, I might be persuaded to change my mind, but until then I must insist that I told you a lie.
(He loves me? When did that happen? What a ridiculous string of adjectives. He's so cute. Oh, he means it. Well, this changes things. How am I supposed to respond? "I'm sorry, I don't feel that way about you?" "You just don't do the trick for me?" "I can't promise you anything until I know you better?" And he hedges. Hems and haws. No decision, really, just a fearful fishing line in a lake that has wise fish. Oh, I wish I didn't have to break his heart.)
What's that? You again!? I thought you were in Sweden. Denmark, was it? It hadn't even crossed my mind. Oh, that's fascinating. Lunch? Hm, I'm busy, I think. No, I'm definitely busy. Martha asked me--Oh, that's right, you don't know Em, do you? Well, she asked me to pick up our kids from daycare. You didn't know! Oh, one is three and the other is two. It's been about four years now, yes. You left so long ago for your--yes, your degree. Wow, we really do need a lunch sometime. I don't even know anything about your life now. So much has changed.
(I'll say. I finally came around to his way of thinking and now I find he's come round to mine. Was there a point when we intersected? When we both liked each other just the same? Was there a time when we would have worked? I want to tell him I fell in love with the idea of him, but I know just what he'll say.)You love me? When did that happen?
I have said some things to women that are terribly romantic. When I repeat them after we dissolve, they sound so tremendously hollow.
ReplyDeleteFunny how "When I feel your heartbeat, I want to dance" sounds so much different after she's told me there's nothing about me that fascinates her.
I really don't want to cry over this, but I don't think I can help it. I'm sorry, dear. I don't understand how anyone could not be fascinated by you. But that is irrelevant.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry you've been hurt.
At least he told her. I guess it was that fifty-fifty chance of being reciprocated that he was acting on.
ReplyDeleteI wish more people (guys and girls) would take such chances--and I'm just as bad, you know. I'm so good at hiding that I don't know how to be vulnerable. I've gotten better, but yeah. I just am tired of missed opportunities. Then again, maybe those were opportunities at all, but they still felt like opportunities.
Yeah, it's complicated, isn't it?
ReplyDeleteI don't know.
"The course of true love never did run smooth," or something like that. I know lots of couples in which one liked the other, then they switched, and eventually came to a sort of stasis . . . But true love is rare, isn't it? I mean, the kind of epic love story one might hope to watch once in a lifetime, much less be part of.
That savors slightly of bitterness. But 50/50 chances are rarely truly 50/50, and so many factors go into it that I marvel sometimes that anyone could fall in love at all. There is so much risk involved. Because to do it right, it has to be all in, no take-backs.
And really, how much can one person ever know another?
I think that no one knows another person quite as well as God knows them, but that's because He's God and we're not. And who you fall in love with will change after time just because people change after time, and I think that's when love being a choice comes into play. Sometimes I feel that I must not be as fascinating as I think I am.
ReplyDeleteFor some reason, what you said brought to mind the old legend of souls being torn in half and seeking the other half.
ReplyDeleteI don't really believe the whole "there is only one person I can marry and be happy with" thing, but I do think that God has created best fits for us, if that makes any sense.
You may not be fascinating to one person, but you will be fascinating to the right person at the right time [some additional weird, placating/condescending cliché here].
I think change over time is one reason why love is a continual choice; I think another is simply the nature of the thing. Like contending for the faith.
I don't know. I'm kind of afraid to say more because it will probably say too much, but maybe it might help? I don't know much about love, but I am learning (very slowly; infinitely slowly; painfully slowly). What I have learned so far is that there is something to be said for imprinting.
For me, I mean, I know it's a choice (a continual choice), but at the same time, choosing "yes" is the most natural thing in the world, like I'm deciding to breathe or eat when I'm hungry-- you know, actually, that might help. Hunger. You can choose whether or not to eat, whether to eat something good for you or not, how much to eat, etc. What I'm trying to say is something like . . . being loved is a need that everyone seems to know people have. Loving is a need that people don't think about as much.
My capacity to love is severely limited, and I am often very selfish in it. I think I knew intellectually that that could be true, but I never understood it until I noticed it happening to me. But I think it's growing, a little. Very slowly. Maybe that's the point.
For as intelligent as I'm supposed to be, I just don't get it. Maybe I'm not supposed to until it happens. At least, that's what my former roommate said to me after she'd gotten her boyfriend.
ReplyDeleteI don't necessarily believe there's "one true person" or whatever. I like the idea of best fits. Apparently I'm just a strangely shaped puzzle piece.
You're just not satisfied with anything less than the best fit, and everybody knows it.
ReplyDeleteI also think that God has protected me from relationships that would have hurt me in the end. A bit. I mean . . . I don't know. Maybe that should help?
Oh, I'm rather sure God has protected me (and I'm glad of it), but I hate being made to feel left behind and out of luck because I'm almost 25. Granted, I'm trying not to choose to feel that way, but sometimes it's difficult.
ReplyDeleteThat be common for I, also, but be more strong, you. Much work and someday you find [Faramir?]. Maybe tomorrow, okay?
ReplyDelete(I just expressed this to someone else regarding money.)
I think I struck a chord. The things I know about love are limited and vague, and try make better questions than answers.
ReplyDeleteThey. They make better questions. My phone has intense trouble recognizing "h" when I type quickly. Also, Wurstle said that use of " is incorrect. For some reason, I feel perfectly safe not listening to her at all. (she or I may have been confused about the other)
ReplyDeleteSometimes the questions (and the courage to ask them) are more important than the answers.
ReplyDeleteI think so, anyway.
Yes, dear, you did. You really, really did. Well done you. :-)
I don't believe Wurstle is right in this instance.
Questions at least raise awareness of the fact that the questions exist.
ReplyDeleteYes, but if all one ever does is ask questions and never say anything, no one is helped. Socrates, anyone? Totally pointless.
ReplyDeleteGood news: The further down the periodic table you go, the more reactive the alkalines become, but the rarer they are.
ReplyDeleteThe more intelligent and thoughtful you become, the more reactive you are. But others are quite rare.
Anyway, I don't know if that helps.
YES. SOCRATES IS THE WORST.
ReplyDeleteBut we kind of already have all the answers. I mean, we're Christians; we have the Bible. Those answers don't do anything for us, though, if we don't know what they're the answer to.
I knew all the answers for years before I started asking the questions that connected them to my life, and I still can't do that well.
So yeah, we can't just spout off questions without seeking answers; we can't just spout off answers without seeking questions. They're useless without each other (42).
The statement about the periodic table may have demonstrated what I've been trying to figure out. Thanks, Robby. It's like you've been reading my blog or something.
ReplyDeleteYes, Socrates is the worst. He just wanted to be annoying, in my opinion.
Christians may have answers but they don't always feel relevant even if they are.
That's because nobody asks the questions for fear of being shot down by an answer. Socrates didn't care about the answers, so he didn't mind asking.
ReplyDeleteSocrates plain didn't care about anything but himself, is my guess. Anyway, the fear of rejection is definitely a factor--but that's why people need real friends I think, people they're comfortable asking tougher questions, and that's why they need God, whom they can ask the toughest questions (even if they don't answers).
ReplyDeleteOH NOES ANSWERS ARE TERRIFYING
ReplyDeletewhy? WHY?????
Whether or not answers are terrifying--hmm, guess that depends on the question. It may not be the answer itself that is scary; it might be how a person thinks others will react.
ReplyDeleteThe trouble with answers is that people offer them without understanding the question.
ReplyDelete