Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Falling in love with love

What is love?  Take a moment now to get the Haddaway lyrics out of your system, because I know for a fact you just sang that song to yourself and I'm dutifully refraining from saying so myself.  (though I suppose this avoidance in and of itself is as much of a reference as if I typed the lyrics themselves, but I won't stoop so low) My honest answer: who knows, I've never experienced it.  Halt, self: I'll make an amendment to that.  Of course I've experienced love, but it's been restricted to familial and platonic love: I would assume then that my definition of love as it pertains to my family might involve something deeper than words could explain, and perhaps somewhat similarly, I suppose the love I have for the closest of my friends entails an unquestionable selflessness (on my part) or an exertion of genuine interest and emotion or an unwavering and indestructible trust.  No, when I say I've never experienced love, I mean it in the romantic sense, as to tie into the topic I've chosen to write about at hand.  At least, I don't think I've ever been in love.  Yes, there have been instances of absolute lust or attraction in response to someone I've liked in that way (although even now that I think about it - past my self-embarrassment - such instances have been somewhat numbered), but I would never venture out and say that I've felt love for someone, and I'd wager a guess that that's because I've never been in the situation to do so.

I've made brief mention of 'crushes,' and I really hate that term because it's so trivial and juvenile and yet there's no better way to describe it.  My point being, the furthest romantic endeavors have been limited to the confines of my mind - and yes that sounds incredibly dirty but I mean it in the sense that I've never physically been in a legitimate relationship and the only lust or attraction or 'crushes' that I've had have never come to a tangible fruition, save for becoming words aloud or in text to those few aforementioned good and loved friends.  Therefore, it's a given I've never had the chance to love in that way.  Is it disappointing?  Somewhat.  But I think when I yearn for a relationship - 'yearn' being the operative word (it's a rather desperate word), and also overall being something I'll probably continue to talk about - I'm not entirely interested in falling in love because I don't know what love is.  That isn't to say that my only criteria is the physical - surely that very much does exist - but when I think about, say, a girl in class I catch looking my way and sometimes who catches me looking hers, I don't think to myself, "god, I wish I felt love for her."  Surely, I would assume, when I were to date someone, I doubt I'd think "I can't wait to fall in love with this person" on the first date, but I know subliminally I'd be conscious that that would be something to strive toward in the long run - besides, why else date someone?  Unless you're loose, but that's what one night stands are for.

That's the thing: when you look at me, Matt, you do not think 'player.'  I mean by 'player' just what you'd expect - I'm not the type to hook up with random people every time I step foot outside of my house.  Does that mean the intentions aren't there?  Hell no.  Had I the chance, I would to a respectable extent, but that's neither here nor there.  (here's where things might get sticky in respect to my stance on blogs getting to be a little too personal; actually, this entire post has been one massive red flag, but what can you do, so I'll be a hypocrite for the sake of writing something down in text that's been in my head for ages) I hate to self-deprecate but I have a serious lack of confidence, whether it be physically or personality-wise.  Who doesn't?  Cyborgs, that's who.  Unfortunately for me I've always fixated on what people might think of me, and no matter what I do, the pessimist in me automatically leaps to figuring that when someone looks at me, they're scrutinizing me no matter what.  A look my way can never signal interest - I always consider it as scrutiny.  I've had this conversation with someone before - albeit, I was drunk - about the idea that coming to university as an adult you can forget about everything behind you and be who you are and put yourself out there without any preconceived notions with a staggering new confidence.  It worked for them, but I can't quite bring myself to do so for myself.  I'm conditioned to reject compliments.  I'm self-withdrawn enough to prevent myself from the kind of oncoming compliments from strangers so I doubt their existence whatsoever.  Like I said, I jump to conclusions about how people think of me.  As far as I know, I've never been attentive to someone who's thought I was attractive, physically or not.  (as shallow as it is to say, yes, physical appearance counts, or at least it does for me - I believe in people having hearts of gold, of course, but I'm not up for digging for it restlessly unless it's immediately apparent; however, that all being said, and me being the not-player, I don't value a girl on their chest alone) Returning to the concept of compliments, I've been built up by the best friends, much like I do the same.  I guess that's what I get for having the closest of my friends being female: often am I the rock who insists on their goodness regardless of hardship so naturally I see that in return.  It's nice, of course, but like I've mentioned I'm completely conditioned to oppose compliments and to assume ulterior motive.  Enough with the pity party.

One of the rudest things I've been told was that I want a girlfriend so badly only for commodity, that I want one because I'm tired of being a minority - single - amongst my tight knit group of friends, that I want one for the sake of it; things like that are a deep burn.  (mind you, it wasn't the rudest to come from this individual)  Sure, sometimes I don't enjoy the position of being nth wheel, but I don't weep to myself that I'm single.  That isn't to say that I don't want a relationship: that's the point I've been driving at.  I'm tired of being forever alone; tired of knowing I haven't yet gone on a legitimate date or knowing that the only physical things (I hate myself for writing about things like this!) have been restricted to times where an obscene amount of alcohol has been in my system.  I want the sickeningly romantic stuff.  I want to spoil my girlfriend.  I want to be completely enthralled to the point where people around me want to slap me in the face until I'm grounded again on earth.

To play my own devil's advocate - or, perhaps more appropriately, playing the figure of the aforementioned horrid comment-disher: what if I really am just in love with the idea of finding love?  Love's everywhere: I dare you to turn on the radio without hearing a song centered completely around love (that might unfortunately be because of the high frequency of the cursed We Found Love playing constantly..) or watching a movie where attraction or lust is not a subplot.  Love, actually, is all around.  (where'd I get that quote from?) You walk to class, and you're likely to come across a couple holding hands and walking so slow you want nothing more than to get a streamroller and make your own path over their dreadfully glacial pace.  Is it possible that I want it for all the wrong reasons; that I want a relationship so I can be satisfied in knocking that off of my list and kicking back and saying, mission accomplished?*

As for the time being, I can't see my situation altering itself in any drastic way.  Sure, I could wake up tomorrow morning and tell myself I'm looking attractive today and that I'm a catch and exude enough confidence to suffocate those around me (without being a douche, naturally) much like what my one friend spoke of doing - there's no harm in trying, they continued, but I digress - but I know I won't do that.  I fear, given my lack of confidence and, quite candidly, my horrific flirtation skills, I'm thinking the only time that something good will happen is when it walks straight up to me and punches me in the face, but even then I think I'll either miss overt signals or misinterpret them entirely.  Maybe I'm overthinking, and maybe this will serve as a catharsis, considering I've attempted to - and failed at - writing a post on this topic countless times before.  (that's what I meant by saying I've had this in my mind for forever.. I'm happy it's worked out tonight!  Good job, res room, you've rejuvenated my creativity.  A pat on the wall for you!) Perhaps I'll reserve myself to thinking about that girl in class and taking care to make sure I look presentable.  It's always fun to do, singling out someone as an interest.  You know you do it too.

Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no mo.

*I can barely stand to continue on with that thought: there is no way in hell I'm that person.  I'm a sickeningly horrific hopeless romantic.

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