Relationships are an odd sort of dilemma in the realm of human interaction. We meet, we decide whether or not we like the other person and would we like to see them again. There is a lot of measuring and estimating and second guessing involved. There is also a lot of judgement, not only of the other person, but of ourselves. Do our ideals match theirs? Are we compatible? Do we like the same things? We spend time shaping parts of ourselves to appeal to them if we decide we like them. We get in and out and back in the dating scene as we search for someone who "gets" us. A few people are lucky enough to find someone on the first try. Most of us look for a long time, however, and it is such a crazy process filled with anxiety and promise, fear and joy.
A challenge I have always faced is stopping myself from attempting to foresee the future. If I am truly interested in a person, if we click and find that strange rhythm that carries two people into the "more than friends" zone, I have a tendency to critique her and me and find the things that we share and what we differ on. I then make little judgements about what will work and not work and whether or not we will last.
This is a terrible and ridiculous habit that is destructive and I am not entirely sure why I do it. Is it a defense mechanism? Am I setting up a bomb shelter before I even know that there will be a bomb?
It seems so.
When I was teaching, it was important to leave my baggage at the door so that I could focus on the students. Maybe that is a tactic that should be employed as we enter new relationships. Leave the stuff from past loves at the door, both the good and the bad.
I say "the good" because bringing the wonderful memories of a past flame into a new relationship places an invisible burden on the target of your affection. They don't even know it is there, yet they have to carry it around. It seems just as unfair as dumping the bad baggage into their arms as well. The way a person used to look at you, or the way they fit in your arms, or a kiss, or a smell. I think we take pieces from each person and create a perfect image of love for us, which does not make anything easier for us or for the people we are attempting to fit into this image. We subconsciously create our own Frankenstein of love that smashes any hope of really enjoying the person we are with. How can a person unknowingly meet the checklist of qualities that we are, and are not, looking for in a companion?
They can't. By setting this perfection in our mind we are being unfair to others and to ourselves.
I keep catching myself watching for traits in my newest relationship that I have to be wary of. It is a somewhat new thing, but I am scared of women now. I have a hard time letting go and enjoying the time with them. It's like having your best friend watch your house for the weekend while you are on vacation. You hand the keys to them, but have a hard time just letting them go because the thought of coming home to the remains of a party you didn't get to enjoy is too traumatic. But you have to let the keys go and you have to trust them. If you don't, any chance of relaxing and finding the joys of your trip are wasted.
Isn't that what a relationship is? A journey?
Going to Cozumel would lose some of it's flavor if you spent the whole time remembering how awful the flight to Mexico had been or how amazing the food in Italy was. Why not just enjoy the trip you are on? If you don't, it will suck. That much can almost be guaranteed.
I am currently boarding the plane for another trip of my own and I have all the butterflies of excitement as I step into the cabin. The one thing that is holding me up is my personal debate at bringing my carry-on luggage with me. Really, it would be best to throw it to the tarmac and find all the wonderful things my new destination has to offer. It is a struggle, but wouldn't it be for the best? Wouldn't we all benefit from leaving behind the weight we always bring on the plane with us? Hell knows we can always use the extra leg room.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Pathetic Heart Stuff
There are times when the crap floating in my head needs to be dumped. This is one of those times.
I love the fact that I am finding a semblance of balance in my life. Truthfully, I feel better now than I have in a long time and for a while there was a feeling of invulnerability to the shadows that haunt the back alleys of the mind. I have felt like a veritable superman with the bullets of life's issues deflecting harmlessly off of my chest thanks to my newly found ability to step back and breathe. I could leap over emotional hurdles in a single bound and have felt like I was flying over the vastness of my psyche, seeing everything from a whole new angle. And, much like Superman, I have my kryptonite.
I can't imagine that it would be a surprise to anyone, but my green stone of weakness is a woman.
I know, right? Who would have guessed?
The frustration of that statement makes me freaking crazy. It's like a damn broken record of cliche and I am shaking my fist at the sky. Why, when I find a semblance of balance, must I allow a wonderfully curvaceous woman with beautiful deep brown eyes to step on the scale and throw everything askew?
Is it because I am a straight man, damned to libidinous driven decision making for the rest of my life? Is it because I am a sad, pathetic romantic who feels shit deeply and can't help but hope for some kind of meaningful relationship with a member of the fairer sex?
Both. I think it is both.
So, what the hell is the issue this time?
I have mentioned a woman a while back that was with someone and I would have to deal with that and blah, blah, blah. Well, she is no longer with that someone. Jubilation, right?
No.
One issue lies in my tenacious ability to find an angle that will keep me emotionally safe while allowing me the freedom to pine. When she had a man, I could control my emotions, I could maintain my cool. Now that she is single, the cool is harder to hold on to. My heart wants to leap from my chest and into her arms. Stupid heart. It doesn't seem to realize that the way to get the girl is to play it cool. If you pour it all out, they tend to shy away, especially if they have just gotten out of a relationship. Right now my heart is a massive dog pulling on a leash after a bunny. If I let the dog run it might catch the rabbit (but just to play with, no blood or death), or said rabbit will freak out and be off like a shot never to be found.
When I am away from her, thoughts are controlled and feelings are containable. I can practice my breathing and meditation and detachment to look at what I am feeling. When I see her, all bets are off. What can I say? I am weak.
Another side of this story is the recognition that I am a bit lonely and she has shown interest. I also realize that it has been a while since you-know-what and she can be a sultry vixen. I see all of this and I swirl it all around in my head so that I might find all of the colors. I feel confident that it is not just hormones driving the car. They are involved, sure. Aren't they always?
But sometimes I look at her and I just want to pull her in and feel her near me. When she leans against me, things seem right. I don't know if she is just being flirtatious, or showing real interest. This is how she tortures my idiotic self. If it's a woman I just want to sleep with, no problem, but I am really dumb when it comes to women I like.
Cynical me shakes his head and knows that she doesn't want me in that way. Optimist me says very little at this point, and what he does choose to add to the conversation is said rather meekly. My head is full of this shit. This is why I have to dump it out. I can't tell the reasonable from the irrational amongst the maelstrom when it is all locked up. For that matter, I can't seem to pick the two apart after writing it down.
Just breathe. Try to focus. Remember that each moment is all I have. Remember to observe. Remember to chill the fuck out.
This situation is a little bit ridiculous. I can see that, at least.
Stupid women and their stupid....stuff. Damnit.
I love the fact that I am finding a semblance of balance in my life. Truthfully, I feel better now than I have in a long time and for a while there was a feeling of invulnerability to the shadows that haunt the back alleys of the mind. I have felt like a veritable superman with the bullets of life's issues deflecting harmlessly off of my chest thanks to my newly found ability to step back and breathe. I could leap over emotional hurdles in a single bound and have felt like I was flying over the vastness of my psyche, seeing everything from a whole new angle. And, much like Superman, I have my kryptonite.
I can't imagine that it would be a surprise to anyone, but my green stone of weakness is a woman.
I know, right? Who would have guessed?
The frustration of that statement makes me freaking crazy. It's like a damn broken record of cliche and I am shaking my fist at the sky. Why, when I find a semblance of balance, must I allow a wonderfully curvaceous woman with beautiful deep brown eyes to step on the scale and throw everything askew?
Is it because I am a straight man, damned to libidinous driven decision making for the rest of my life? Is it because I am a sad, pathetic romantic who feels shit deeply and can't help but hope for some kind of meaningful relationship with a member of the fairer sex?
Both. I think it is both.
So, what the hell is the issue this time?
I have mentioned a woman a while back that was with someone and I would have to deal with that and blah, blah, blah. Well, she is no longer with that someone. Jubilation, right?
No.
One issue lies in my tenacious ability to find an angle that will keep me emotionally safe while allowing me the freedom to pine. When she had a man, I could control my emotions, I could maintain my cool. Now that she is single, the cool is harder to hold on to. My heart wants to leap from my chest and into her arms. Stupid heart. It doesn't seem to realize that the way to get the girl is to play it cool. If you pour it all out, they tend to shy away, especially if they have just gotten out of a relationship. Right now my heart is a massive dog pulling on a leash after a bunny. If I let the dog run it might catch the rabbit (but just to play with, no blood or death), or said rabbit will freak out and be off like a shot never to be found.
When I am away from her, thoughts are controlled and feelings are containable. I can practice my breathing and meditation and detachment to look at what I am feeling. When I see her, all bets are off. What can I say? I am weak.
Another side of this story is the recognition that I am a bit lonely and she has shown interest. I also realize that it has been a while since you-know-what and she can be a sultry vixen. I see all of this and I swirl it all around in my head so that I might find all of the colors. I feel confident that it is not just hormones driving the car. They are involved, sure. Aren't they always?
But sometimes I look at her and I just want to pull her in and feel her near me. When she leans against me, things seem right. I don't know if she is just being flirtatious, or showing real interest. This is how she tortures my idiotic self. If it's a woman I just want to sleep with, no problem, but I am really dumb when it comes to women I like.
Cynical me shakes his head and knows that she doesn't want me in that way. Optimist me says very little at this point, and what he does choose to add to the conversation is said rather meekly. My head is full of this shit. This is why I have to dump it out. I can't tell the reasonable from the irrational amongst the maelstrom when it is all locked up. For that matter, I can't seem to pick the two apart after writing it down.
Just breathe. Try to focus. Remember that each moment is all I have. Remember to observe. Remember to chill the fuck out.
This situation is a little bit ridiculous. I can see that, at least.
Stupid women and their stupid....stuff. Damnit.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Another Year Young
It's my birthday. I had forgotten when I woke up this morning. Thankfully facebook messages reminded me or I would have gone the whole day without realizing that I am older.
Funny thing, I don't feel older.
I used to believe that when I was an adult, I would "feel" like an adult. I would look at parents and couldn't help but get the impression that they feel as old as they are. Even now, I look at people older than me and can't help but to think that I will "feel" 40 or 50. I kind of think this is not true.
I often pass for 28. I usually feel 25. My hair is graying, but my heart is still young. I believe that age is a state of body, not mind. The mind has no age. It may mature, but it is always as young as you choose it to be. There isn't much we can do about our bodies falling apart, but we can do anything we want to keep ourselves young. For me, feeling old tends to mean feeling slow and boring. It means not enjoying life. It means not feeling like you used to feel when you could burst through the front door, leap off the porch steps chased with peels of laughter when your friends came flying off the porch after you.
It means feeling the weight of the world.
I may not be throwing any doors open so that I can leap off of steps, but I feel like I want to sometimes. Being young means wanting to play, for whatever that means to you. It means laughing from deep down. It means not taking things too seriously all the time. It means looking outside, seeing the sun and thinking how beautiful instead of "dear lord, I have to mow the lawn." Being young means seeing promise in every day.
At least, that is what it means to me.
Time as a measurement is made up. It's not real. Therefore, I can be as "old" or as "young" as I want. I would like to believe that, even when my teeth are falling out and I can barely walk, I will always be young.
Funny thing, I don't feel older.
I used to believe that when I was an adult, I would "feel" like an adult. I would look at parents and couldn't help but get the impression that they feel as old as they are. Even now, I look at people older than me and can't help but to think that I will "feel" 40 or 50. I kind of think this is not true.
I often pass for 28. I usually feel 25. My hair is graying, but my heart is still young. I believe that age is a state of body, not mind. The mind has no age. It may mature, but it is always as young as you choose it to be. There isn't much we can do about our bodies falling apart, but we can do anything we want to keep ourselves young. For me, feeling old tends to mean feeling slow and boring. It means not enjoying life. It means not feeling like you used to feel when you could burst through the front door, leap off the porch steps chased with peels of laughter when your friends came flying off the porch after you.
It means feeling the weight of the world.
I may not be throwing any doors open so that I can leap off of steps, but I feel like I want to sometimes. Being young means wanting to play, for whatever that means to you. It means laughing from deep down. It means not taking things too seriously all the time. It means looking outside, seeing the sun and thinking how beautiful instead of "dear lord, I have to mow the lawn." Being young means seeing promise in every day.
At least, that is what it means to me.
Time as a measurement is made up. It's not real. Therefore, I can be as "old" or as "young" as I want. I would like to believe that, even when my teeth are falling out and I can barely walk, I will always be young.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Emotionally, Like Icebergs
I have a feeling that your stereotypical straight man would have a hard time admitting to it, but the moments most deeply missed are the tender moments. Those memories of falling asleep with her head on your chest. Coming home to a meal being cooked while Frankie plays on the stereo. The timeless evening spent sitting on the rocks, holding her while the sun went down over the water. Lying in the light of a single lamp, naked and completely vulnerable and knowing that there is nowhere you would rather be than wrapped in her listening to her heart beat. It is these moments that remind you of a relationship that was more than just words, but a real connection.
For all the pomp and bragging that men do, I think most of us want those moments. Perhaps men and women are not as different as we think.
The difference between men and women may be that men don't know they want those moments until after they have passed, or maybe that we don't think about them until they are happening. We don't hope as openly. I wonder if the nature of women allows them to seek out times like these while men are too wrapped up in surface level kinds of thoughts. Men and women may have different methods and priorities, but all we really want with a relationship is that connection. We are like icebergs, not cold and ship sinking, but we keep most of our emotions under the surface. We are not as emotionally driven as the fairer sex, so being open to the times when we are sitting with someone and our hearts feel bigger than our chests is a big deal. It means that at that moment that woman was able to break through and take a hold of something we keep under wraps.
Our hearts hold on to those moments, though we may never speak of them.
The women that really get us won't have to hear about them to know.
Don't we all just want someone who gets us?
For all the pomp and bragging that men do, I think most of us want those moments. Perhaps men and women are not as different as we think.
The difference between men and women may be that men don't know they want those moments until after they have passed, or maybe that we don't think about them until they are happening. We don't hope as openly. I wonder if the nature of women allows them to seek out times like these while men are too wrapped up in surface level kinds of thoughts. Men and women may have different methods and priorities, but all we really want with a relationship is that connection. We are like icebergs, not cold and ship sinking, but we keep most of our emotions under the surface. We are not as emotionally driven as the fairer sex, so being open to the times when we are sitting with someone and our hearts feel bigger than our chests is a big deal. It means that at that moment that woman was able to break through and take a hold of something we keep under wraps.
Our hearts hold on to those moments, though we may never speak of them.
The women that really get us won't have to hear about them to know.
Don't we all just want someone who gets us?
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