I've decided to forego my previously mentioned "What fruits don't make me puke up blood" commentary [Editors Note - see previous journal entry] to comment on a particularly important realization that I've reached earlier today.
I've never been in love.
I've loved a few, and loved one quite dearly, but after careful and considerable examination of myself, I've come to the conclusion that I wasn't 'IN' love.
What I was, was in love with who she portrayed and not with who she actually was.
This troubles me somewhat, although, in the same vein, it rejuvenates me.
It simply means that I am still capable of experiencing that thrill; that jolt -- the one that makes you state, "Holy shit, I cannot live without this person,' or, alternately, "Jesus Christ, I just saw her ABC food, and I still adore her."
One of my critically important friends and I held a discussion earlier. After our mutual diatribes on being in love and what not, I sat on my couch and drank a beer.
Allow me to elaborate, I drank a quart [fuck you, we don't have 40's in Florida].
I mulled over the words spoken, and a certain key phrase or two stood out. One was, paraphrased, "I was in love with the idea of them but not them." [The other was, "Damn, I shouldn't have shoved that bottle so far up my rectum," but this has no relevance to the story herein, so disregard this entire last sentence.]
Bing!
Please feel free to imagine a relatively dim light bulb sparking to life above my head, accompanied by me drooling in relative idiocy.
That first key phrase mentioned exactly describes the quandary that's been brewing in my noggin' for the last few months.
Put simply: I loved the person for the ideal that they portrayed, but when you got right down to brass tacks, I couldn't be in love with them, as they didn't know yet who they were.
There were things about this person that I loved severely, but they were simply niblets [yes, I used niblet in a sentence, ass] and not the entire ear of corn.
This is a considerably bittersweet realization, but I'll take it as a growing step nonetheless.
What I failed to do, and what should inevitably doom every relationship [start taking notes, Junior, learn from my mistakes] was make sacrifices for her.
I wouldn't move 115 miles away, yet I supposedly 'loved her with all my heart'.
Hmmm, oooookay.
I don't know about you folks, except my brethren in New England [where EVERYTHING is twenty minutes away, tops] but in Florida, you normally drive twenty minutes just to get anywhere, and a two hour drive to a decent show is relatively common.
I also was uncomfortable moving in with her.
Well, crap on a cracker, I like living alone -- but if this was THE person that I was meant to spend my life with, you'd think that I would been happy entertaining that notion.
Nope.
Not even close.
But, after a few years of hindsight and the garnering of minute wisdom, I think small personal sacrifices are exactly what love is all about. If you're in love with someone, it's all about the merging of two persons social and emotional needs and wants -- selfishness is a seed of discontent that will bloom into a nasty tree of 'Now you're alone, fucker'-ness.
I welcome the opportunity to experience the delight that accompanies new love. I do, I truly do.
So, it all boils down to -- I have a heart ripe to be broken.
No need to push and shove, I'll be here all night.
-Me
PS Ever wonder what a blatantly homosexual armadillo looks like? I could tell you.
PSS I drank an ass-load of PBR last night and didn't even get in to ONE scuffle. And the club was chock full of possible brawls via mouth-breathers and knuckle-draggers.
Look, Ma, I'm mature, finally.
Just kidding.
I've never been in love.
I've loved a few, and loved one quite dearly, but after careful and considerable examination of myself, I've come to the conclusion that I wasn't 'IN' love.
What I was, was in love with who she portrayed and not with who she actually was.
This troubles me somewhat, although, in the same vein, it rejuvenates me.
It simply means that I am still capable of experiencing that thrill; that jolt -- the one that makes you state, "Holy shit, I cannot live without this person,' or, alternately, "Jesus Christ, I just saw her ABC food, and I still adore her."
One of my critically important friends and I held a discussion earlier. After our mutual diatribes on being in love and what not, I sat on my couch and drank a beer.
Allow me to elaborate, I drank a quart [fuck you, we don't have 40's in Florida].
I mulled over the words spoken, and a certain key phrase or two stood out. One was, paraphrased, "I was in love with the idea of them but not them." [The other was, "Damn, I shouldn't have shoved that bottle so far up my rectum," but this has no relevance to the story herein, so disregard this entire last sentence.]
Bing!
Please feel free to imagine a relatively dim light bulb sparking to life above my head, accompanied by me drooling in relative idiocy.
That first key phrase mentioned exactly describes the quandary that's been brewing in my noggin' for the last few months.
Put simply: I loved the person for the ideal that they portrayed, but when you got right down to brass tacks, I couldn't be in love with them, as they didn't know yet who they were.
There were things about this person that I loved severely, but they were simply niblets [yes, I used niblet in a sentence, ass] and not the entire ear of corn.
This is a considerably bittersweet realization, but I'll take it as a growing step nonetheless.
What I failed to do, and what should inevitably doom every relationship [start taking notes, Junior, learn from my mistakes] was make sacrifices for her.
I wouldn't move 115 miles away, yet I supposedly 'loved her with all my heart'.
Hmmm, oooookay.
I don't know about you folks, except my brethren in New England [where EVERYTHING is twenty minutes away, tops] but in Florida, you normally drive twenty minutes just to get anywhere, and a two hour drive to a decent show is relatively common.
I also was uncomfortable moving in with her.
Well, crap on a cracker, I like living alone -- but if this was THE person that I was meant to spend my life with, you'd think that I would been happy entertaining that notion.
Nope.
Not even close.
But, after a few years of hindsight and the garnering of minute wisdom, I think small personal sacrifices are exactly what love is all about. If you're in love with someone, it's all about the merging of two persons social and emotional needs and wants -- selfishness is a seed of discontent that will bloom into a nasty tree of 'Now you're alone, fucker'-ness.
I welcome the opportunity to experience the delight that accompanies new love. I do, I truly do.
So, it all boils down to -- I have a heart ripe to be broken.
No need to push and shove, I'll be here all night.
-Me
PS Ever wonder what a blatantly homosexual armadillo looks like? I could tell you.
PSS I drank an ass-load of PBR last night and didn't even get in to ONE scuffle. And the club was chock full of possible brawls via mouth-breathers and knuckle-draggers.
Look, Ma, I'm mature, finally.
Just kidding.
Actually I can count on both hands (well, if I could count) the amount of times I have actually drank wine in my entire life. it just sounded tasty.
I don't drink anything other than beer now. Otherwise I tend to get a little cRAzY and outta hand.
***
re:your post.
I had this discussion with my self the other night.
I have always been really selfish in relationships and I decided that it must've been because I wasn't actually in love because I know if I was I would do anything to make it work, ya know? I think the idea of falling madly in love is wonderful. I hope it happens for you
and yes, I DO want to know what a blatantly homosexual armadillo looks like.
1) this post is making me think to much. and i am breaking all the damn lightbulbs that keep appearing over my head.
2) i think the "holy shit, i cannot live without this person!" statement isnt what being in love should be. for me, the feeling would be more of "holy shit! i CAN live without this person, i just DO NOT WANT TO!" but thats just my pride not wanting to feel like i have to rely on someone else.
3) maybe you were unable to love this old lover, not only because she wasnt "whole" in her sense of herself, but you were not either. i dont know much about the situation surrounding old lover, but it seems that the things that you have gone through recently have allowed you to open yourself up and allow to you be true to who you are and what you want out of life. if you didnt know that when you were with this girl, how could you have given yourself to her? and vice versa on her part?
4) i dont think that living with someone, or moving to be with them should be viewed as a "sacrifice". maybe thats why you werent willing to do it, because that is how you saw it. you would have been giving up things to be with her, and that leads to resentment and discontentment. if you do something because it feels "right" and you are at a point in your life where it "clicks" or "fits" or whatever, then its not so much a "sacrifice" as a "natural step" or "progression". "sacrifice" has such a negative and serious connotation to it. i would NEVER sacrifice anything for anyone. if i feel i am giving up instead of gaining, whats the fucking point?
5) if it were up to me, your ripened heart would stay that way. never broken. i will beat the piss out of anyone who tries to break it. of course, that might lead to a fight scene like in fight club (i am jacks fantasy alter ego), but i'm pretty sure i could handle it.
**********
kitten_ send me your address. i'll show you what a gay armadillo looks like. *mwah*
B