iPost
The over-used word of the day is: love.
I must admit how progressive this is for me to be blogging from my iPhone. I guess like with all dedicated writers (ahem) we must write the moment the material comes! And, not a moment too soon! And so, I write from my iPhone in the middle if the night. Why? Well Franco was stirring. I could hear squeaky sounds of Chihuahua distress and I could not sleep knowing that a tiny, 3.5-pound pet of mine was in such a state. Mind you, a pet of mine of any size would garner the same concerned feeling; tonight it just happens to be Mr. Franco.
If I know him at all by now, I know that his taste buds got the better of him as he must have spent time earlier meticulously eating up whatever remained of that delicious, savoury, protein-rich Halo Spot’s Stew of the Wholesome Chicken variety meal that his feline brothers chow down on. Not to offer more information than you were prepared to read, but I came across one of his distinct number twos and I knew right away someone had dipped into the wrong cookie jar.
I’ve made Nick’s sofa into a makeshift bed where Franco currently sleeps, curled into a ball in the bow of my legs. His tummy squishes and gurgles but not a peep from him vocally since I arrived. Not to sound like a crazy person but I think this little thing finds comfort in me. I’m not sure what kind of life he lived before I picked him up from the rescue shelter but if I could count the changes and transitions he’s undergone since I adopted him on April 29th last year I’d run out of fingers and toes. He’s such a darling and I am so immensely endeared to him.
Marshall and Otis are at Nick’s now as well as of this past weekend. You know how relationships go – especially the ones you actually wholeheartedly want to be in – you spend a lot of time together and it never runs the risk of feeling like too much but that means less time at your own stomping grounds, in your own bed, and pets, clothes, houseplants and creature comforts suddenly find themselves with a little less of me around. Now, before you peg me as a selfish, neglectful pet owner (although my guts tell me you would never because you’ve been following me for so long and/or you know me personally and already fully expect there to be a spot in my coffin for my pets) I will tell you that I was desperately trying my darnedest to give both human and animal the most wholeheartedest parts of me that I could actually distribute. Eventually though, I felt like I was giving Marshall and Otis visitation rights to me and on a lighter, more of a haha, I’m saying this to make light of a situation that is causing me guilty feelings, I’d often tell people that I have the luckiest cats because I’m paying $800/month for them to live in a beautiful one-bedroom apartment.
Since then my eggs, some neglected but still consumable veggies, hand soap refill, and a vacuum have also made their way here although I wasn’t facing any detachment issues with the latter list, thankfully.
Anyway ya, Nicole will like this update because she’s been hoping for a) anything and b) an update on my love life.
Hmmm. The headline would read:
You’re all, “Nick? Who is this human, Nick?”
That’s okay. We’ve got a story and if you think this blog post is long, wait ’til you hear what I’ve got to say about how it all began.
Moving right along…
It’s funny because the way I look at things, me having a love life is actually uncommon and in some ways new all over again because it’s been a while since I’ve really been in love. I mean, I’ve been loving all this time. I’ve been loving all sorts of things. But, the feeling is quite different when you’re in love with something, in this case a human being. I see and feel it in a much more dimensional and cerebral way.
(I had to come back to enter this: I become a sort of psycho-analytical essayist from here on in… Just so you know).
This is not to say that I have issues loving and giving love, in fact it’s quite the opposite. I even love the verb! I’m probably just really picky discerning. And, it is an absolute requirement for me to feel safe with the person I’m with. I find great injustices in disrespect, meanness, inconsideration, and an overall lack of compassion unto others (particularly the ones we say ‘I love you’ to) which is partly why I often feel better safer on my own; I know I’m not going to intentionally hurt, disrespect, or be unkind to myself. You know? I don’t know why I don’t just throw it all out there in one shot, analysing it would require its own sub-section within this blog, but, this way of operating has worked well for me. Some people can jump right in head-first. I’m not one of those people. It could be that I can honestly say I’ve never been really hurt by anyone I’ve spent a very long time loving. I have never felt real heartache from hurt at the end of a relationship. Then again, this is only my third “real” relationship and I’m almost 35. So maybe it’s just like a personal challenge to go through life without having anyone really tear out my innards. The first two relationships did end (obviously, because I ain’t no polyamorist!) after many years but there’s no hate, or ill will, or bad feelings on either side. It could be luck, but it could also be that I am not very frivolous with my love. It’s sacred and the feeling, for me, -the way I experience it- is so distinct that it’s been my gauge for all future relationships. This is kind of crappy for those who might have had sincere interest in pursuing me. I will admit to becoming quite closed if I sense any kind of feeling that I can’t reciprocate, then I withdraw immediately like a turtle. And they’re all, “Where’d you go? We have so much in common!” And I’m all, “It’s not you, it’s me,” and I mean it. But, I guess it’s just my way of saving both of us the trouble. I can’t fake feelings to save my life and it’s not fair to the other person if I have to fake feelings for them.
I am a very meticulous and scrutinizing frig, picky partner-chooser. It’s a nice feeling to find someone I feel safe enough to unravel in front of though, and I feel that with Nick, which I call h’awesome. In as much as I enjoy autonomy, I like being in a relationship with someone I can play with. When it’s not only like, “Okay, you be the boyfriend, and I’ll be the girlfriend,” it’s also like “Let’s play and see what kind of fun adventures we can have, then let’s talk about them, and remember them, and laugh about them, and then let’s read, and finish each other’s Sudoku or Crossword Puzzle, or play chess or Scrabble, or let’s have a laugh attack, or let’s complain to each other, and let’s be stubborn, and cranky, but at the end of the day I’m so happy you’re here,” kind of thing.
I move slowly… I’m really like a house cat in a new home that feels out the environment, uses all its senses to gauge potential threats, and maybe hides under the bed for weeks before it feels safe enough to go sit on someone’s lap and then, there I am all purring and rolling around and snuggling up into your laundry. If you freak me out, I’m back under the bed for a few more days. If you freak me out enough times, I’ll run away and won’t come back.
Was that weird at all?
I guess to me, the love I have to give is quite a big deal because I don’t waste it. So when I’m in love, I know I’m in, loving without having to compromise for things that lack, or that I wish were there - I just can’t love if it’s not all there and, I don’t mind not having someone to love. In fact, I probably love being alone too much.
… until I’m in love; then it’s all very exciting to me.
When I’m single, well I find happiness in other things. Like… Dirty Dancing. [tangent] It gives me that fluttery butterfly giddy feeling; even after the 27th time. Especially the scene where Baby and Johnny have their own, private dirty dance on that stormy night. He brings the needle down to a scratchy, Solomon Burke’s Cry To Me and a shirtless, smooth Patrick Swayze embraces Jennifer Grey’s smallness and he just conducts and orchestrates the movements of their synchronized bodies while she just succumbs to him.
“She’s going to be okay!”
On the list of sensual movie scenes, this one is right up there with Jude Law and Rachel Weisz in Enemy at the Gates. And, it’s funny because neither scene is overtly sexual and the rest is left up to viewer to project their own feelings onto it. I appreciate that. [/tangent]
So, whether it’s toward humans, animals, or favourite movies or books, music, painting, folding laundry (yes, I love folding laundry) -although the medium may change, I’ve found that I can still get that elated “feeling” of loving, or enjoying, something even from objects that don’t have to love or enjoy me back. And, I think that’s really important to living a life with little disillusionment or resentment. It’s… can you, will you, could you, cultivate a more generic feeling of love toward material things and are you okay with letting those things make you happy? Like, if there’s no human around to give you that feeling? Are you still okay with that?
I can tell you, in all my elderly wise-ness, that I think the secret to happiness is finding what makes you happy and letting it make you happy. You’ve got all this happiness you want to feel, and all this great love you want to give, and you want to experience it all with another person… so you hold onto it with all your might that you forget to release a little bit so you can find all these other great things to fill you up in the interim. Or, you’re so excited to have someone to project your love onto that it just bursts right out and you rush and heave. But, I think anyway, that the rush should be slow and steady (shameless plug). I see all too often people getting themselves into situations where having another human to experience day-to-day life with is better than the suffering that being alone brings and even if that other person doesn’t bring them true happiness and there is this pang that you wish the happiness they bring you is exactly the way it is in your dreams but you kind of just avoid that pang and go about life because you’re no longer alone. Be cautious, like cat.
And thus, the responsibility of our happiness is now in the hands of another human being. Bad. Feel happy together. Feel happy alone. And it helps to be very hyper-sensitive with an acute awareness of people. read. their. energies and trust your guts.
So you date and you date and you date and you date and you start to resent and resent and resent and get disappointed and you’re jaded and why can’t things just work out, and boy that person was just brutal, what a [insert insulting profanity here]. And another relationship is over, or maybe it never began, and you’re embittered. Get me some sour cream and onion chips. FML. I hate the world.
I wonder though, is it that the heaviest pain comes not only from a relationship ending but is also substantiated by that moment when all the unhappiness or sadness we may have been enduring is no longer something we can fight for. So, there’s like this period of mourning coupled with resentment and anger that we gave so much and took so much and so much was invested that it’s now like, “Well fuck you now,” and time and energy feels like it was all in vain. But, that’s all okay! It’s a risk. And I think it’s important to distinguish those feelings from the hatred it’s so much easier to feel. Because then we start to hate people and that, my friends, is a real recipe for disaster. That’s why I say always have things that make you happy as back up then go back to them. You’ll find happiness in them again.
The thing is people are people. They weren’t born to service you. There are people who have a genuine and empathic interest in your well-being and in the well-being of others. They will feel hurt and they will concern themselves with your hurt and of another’s suffering. There are people who have no genuine interest in others. They’re all, “Enough about me, let’s talk about you, what do you think of me?”
(I borrowed that from Bette Midler in Beaches. Best line, ever.)
That’s called self-entitlement or self-interest. You can’t blame someone for being that way. But, you do have the choice to take it or leave it. If you stay, and you stay for years and years then.. well. Chalk it up to experience. Be cautious, like cat. Listen to your screaming guts and the screaming guts of those who consider you. Love and happiness are such delicate and vulnerable feelings. Reserve them for the right moments and never convince yourself of them.
Don’t misunderstand me or feel like I’m depreciating the unique desire we all have to find that one person we can share our lives with. In my alone times I’ve felt the pressures of life and wished I had someone to talk to or cry with before I fell asleep at night. Someone who would just wrap their arms around me and tell me that it’s going to be okay. I’ve read amazing books and seen fantastic movies that I wish I could have shared with a lover. But in the in-between times, when everything is well and still, I am very peaceful.
There are so many people in this world and we’re all so different. If you take a global dating pool, and condense it down to something small like a 500 piece puzzle, you’ll find pieces that are so close to fitting together, you could swear that they should fit. The contours match up, but when you slide the pieces into each other, there are gaps, it’s not the right fit no matter how hard you force it and you may not come to that missing piece until three quarters of the puzzle is complete, but you’ll find it eventually. Probably after you’ve stopped trying to find the match. Or, if you’re anything like me, that missing piece was actually stuck to the felt floor protector attached to the bottom of your sofa’s leg. Your puzzle may or may not have sat nearly complete for weeks at 499 pieces, except for that one ghastly 500th piece. You also may or may not have torn open your vacuum cleaner bag and filtered your fingertips through thick clumps of dirt and debris in search for it. It was pure desperation and it made me uncomfortable and sneeze like crazy. But, I eventually found it!
Just so you don’t think I have the patience of a saint, I stopped iPhone-ing my blog entry about six or seven paragraphs ago. I will also note that I began this post in November. It’s now January.
I’m going to post this so Nicole’s got something to read and just so I can have the satisfaction of posting it, dammit!
Happy 2012, lovelies.
xo



































