When I think of love and how it has often played out in my life, this photo really kind of says it all…
A gross exaggeration maybe, but not completely.
Entering into a love relationship when you’re not emotionally ready is a lot like swimming in shark infested waters wearing a swim suit made of chum.
I’ve spent a lifetime doing just that.
After all these years of falling in love and failing at it miserably, I know one thing for sure: that I know nothing at all about it.
Oh yeah..sure– you can read all the books like “The Rules” and “Men Are From Mars and Women Are From Venus” and you can even read “He’s Just Not That Into You” and apply what they say. You can live by their every line and treat every word like scripture if you want—but you shouldn’t because when the books are wrong, when you’ve let them lead you astray, to whom are supposed to turn? Huh? Who?
These books assume that every man is alike and that the blanket stances they stress regarding ways to handle yourself and your man will work in every relationship. Well, they won’t. Every relationship is idiosyncratic. Lump sum dime store self-help advice won’t always work.
Dr. Feel McGraw is finding that out the hard way and on syndicated TV, no less.
Sure, all men rose from the same gender-based primordial goo all those eons ago and as a result, they do share some of the same psychopathy. They have similar hard wiring. But one man’s view of the world is just that–HIS VIEW OF THE WORLD!! Every man is different. I learned that in an earlier post. I asked men for their perspective on a few situations that had happened to me and a few friends. I walked away feeling even more confused. I asked eight men and got eight different responses. Men are all so damn different! Hell, the only thing that the men in my life had in common was a penis…except for Jeff. I’m not sure WHAT that was!!??!??
The reality is that women have to walk a rickety, narrow path that’s fraught with obstacles. We’re supposed to keep emotional distance WHILE trying to establish some semblance of close intimacy with these men. How impossibly passive/ aggressive is that?
At this stage of my life, I AM NOT in the mood to pretend I don’t care when I do and feign being busy when I’m not because being otherwise, might step on the toes of some hard and fast law of testosterone. I’m talking about the one concerning man not being happy unless he can chase and pursuit his female prey.
I can hear what you’re saying–then prepare to be alone, LK. Blow it out your ass, THEN submit that argument elsewhere, Skippy!
At my age, it’s damned ridiculous! Hell, half the men I’d even be interested in can’t physically stand up that long, much less waste time pursuing me or anything short of the exact location of the nearest restroom.
I’d throw my hands up in the air and give up, but I’m not hardwired for that. So, instead of relenting and in my frustration, insanely agreeing to start pinch hitting for Rita Mae Brown’s team, I’m in the midst of learning about love. It’s a life course and I’m taking it pass/fail. Really, there’s no other way to do it.
And it has been educational.
So far, I’ve learned that love is elusive for many. It’s also wonderful and at times, incredibly painful. It can sometimes be quite easy and sometimes, it’s extremely difficult. I’ve learned that contrary to Eric Segal’s ridiculous drivel, love never negates the need to say “I’m sorry” and it is never, ever blind.
Not really, anyway.
Life is such a classroom. We can learn so much if we allow our memories to form the quill; our experience to become the ink.
And what about love? Where does it come into play? Well, after the quest for riches and libidinous satiation, love is one of the most sought-after intangibles known to man.
So the question then morphs in to this: how do you know when you’re in love?
Really, how do you know?
That very question was posed to me a few days ago. I thought about it for a second, then I drifted back several years to recall one instance. Minutes later through the miracle of Vodka, I was whisked back 36 years for the other time I knew real love and for a few fleeting moments, I remembered how it felt.
For some, it could be that you get light headed. Maybe your mouth gets all Sahara-esque or your nipples harden.
For me, it’s different.
It usually requires looking into his eyes. At first, I feel a tightening in my solar plexus…that means it’s preparing itself for the gut punch and/or kick that love will invariably dispense in the coming weeks.
Then, I wonder what this man looked like as a child.
Lastly, if it’s love, real love, I suddenly realize that my life is no longer just about me anymore.
Then six months later, he leaves me for someone younger and thinner and I end up wishing him perpetual penile flaccidity. Even in the midst of my anger, I find that always “softens the blow”.
Well, for him anyway…
God, I’m funny!