Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Ah, just thought I'd clarify
I recently received a detailed response to an argument I made in what I would be the first to point out began as a silly blog, but I believe had some redeeming points anyway.
Then, I read something else, which most likely has not much to do with me directly, but got me thinking again about the same subject altogether.
So, now, I'm just going to tell you something I haven't told anyone except all my friends, and anyone else who would listen:
IT EXISTS.
And yes, I know the ridiculousness the CAPS lock implies, but it does.
A long time ago my big sis told me a story. Once, after a sub-par, three-year relationship had ended, she made a list for herself, and solely for therapeutic purposes.
I have to admit, I'm a listmaker myself, but I've never made one of these lists. It was a list of things, characteristics, her ideal mate would possess. I'm not sure she thought it existed either. Many people don't believe in that, and that's why they spend years trying to hammer puzzle pieces together that do not, nor will ever, fit.
It's not a bad way to go. You can adapt over time. You can be better people. You can still have a life and be happy.
The alternative, one doesn't often prefer to think about, especially while holding the hammer and bringing it down time and time again with all her might, and bending and twisting and turning, and trying again, is that the dream does not have to remain a dream. It can be real.
People do fall in love. People do belong to people.
Back to the list. She made the list, and completely forgot about it, for some length of time. And years later, after she had already been with the man who is now her husband, she found it. She unfolded it, and read it, and even astonished herself at the fact that he was everything on that list and more.
He was more than she could hope for, and she was more than she could hope for, and together they are more than they ever hoped for.
For. For. For. Yes. And for can be a beautiful word as well. For what? For everything that has ever mattered to you, even when you were the first one to say it didn't, and that you couldn't plan it, and that you couldn't want it.
Not everyone finds it, and if not I'm by no means saying it is impossible to be happy. Maybe you don't even find it in every life.
But it exists. Fuck, it does.
***
This isn't really about what it was supposed to be about. I was going to say something about the what you like vs. are like thing once again, and lay it to rest.
And although I said what I did, and although I was somewhat bitter, and although I was also making fun of myself a little, and although I was writing about a conversation I had with some friends while I was still drunk the morning after an amazing night, and drinking a bloody Mary, and although we laughed our asses off ('cause I think my ultimate test at that moment was wanting someone to play Ms. Pacman with me), it was a joke. It was a friendly conversation. It was something fun to be silly about.
What I really wanted even then -- and what I have always wanted, and wouldn't be surprised if it's what plenty have wanted -- is someone to be excited about life with me.
This is incredibly different from what it sounds like, but I will try to articulate:
It's not someone to make you excited about life.
That is the defining difference.
It is, as someone recently put it, something else. It's when all the sudden this thing that was on the back burner ... it was this tiny voice, and everything else was louder. Everything you could imagine. Everything you had experienced.
They switch. Everything flips, and all the sudden the quietest part is the loudest and everything else is just stuff. It still matters, things still happen, but it's different.
I wouldn't want someone to like exactly all the music I like. For one thing, other than reviewing things, how would I hear something new? But what I would like is for someone to be open to things, or at least when I review an album and it's awesome, and I'm in that excited, telling all my friends about it mode, and talking about the artist I interviewed mode, they want to hear it, too.
You know how sometimes you want to go somewhere and you ask someone to come with you? Some people will ask who is going, and what time, and all kinds of other details, which you provide, only to make your way to one huge, heavy Maybe.
Others, others just say Yes. That's what I want. I want someone to come with me. (And not in that coming with you because they are obligated sort of way, but in a coming with you way that says, "I want to come with you because you are you, and you're awesome, and so going places with you is awesome.)
Someone else told me something else recently. He said something about the Yes, and I knew exactly what he meant, because I had already done it.
Good timing does not exist. It does not. I have not believed that for some time. Instead, I believe in recognizing things that are good (you know, like the birdie and the sugar packet). As for the other thing I mentioned, the other It, I'm a Believer, and if you ever find it, take The Tenth Road, man. I swear. Say yes.
So, maybe saying yes isn't ridiculous at all. Maybe the ridiculous part is the maybe, or maybe it's everything else.
This is a long-winded way of saying at once, I was wrong.
Sometimes, no matter who you are, you've got to admit you are wrong, or at least there are some things you would love to be wrong about.
Well, that's all, except you know what else? I'm cool with that.
I recently received a detailed response to an argument I made in what I would be the first to point out began as a silly blog, but I believe had some redeeming points anyway.
Then, I read something else, which most likely has not much to do with me directly, but got me thinking again about the same subject altogether.
So, now, I'm just going to tell you something I haven't told anyone except all my friends, and anyone else who would listen:
IT EXISTS.
And yes, I know the ridiculousness the CAPS lock implies, but it does.
A long time ago my big sis told me a story. Once, after a sub-par, three-year relationship had ended, she made a list for herself, and solely for therapeutic purposes.
I have to admit, I'm a listmaker myself, but I've never made one of these lists. It was a list of things, characteristics, her ideal mate would possess. I'm not sure she thought it existed either. Many people don't believe in that, and that's why they spend years trying to hammer puzzle pieces together that do not, nor will ever, fit.
It's not a bad way to go. You can adapt over time. You can be better people. You can still have a life and be happy.
The alternative, one doesn't often prefer to think about, especially while holding the hammer and bringing it down time and time again with all her might, and bending and twisting and turning, and trying again, is that the dream does not have to remain a dream. It can be real.
People do fall in love. People do belong to people.
Back to the list. She made the list, and completely forgot about it, for some length of time. And years later, after she had already been with the man who is now her husband, she found it. She unfolded it, and read it, and even astonished herself at the fact that he was everything on that list and more.
He was more than she could hope for, and she was more than she could hope for, and together they are more than they ever hoped for.
For. For. For. Yes. And for can be a beautiful word as well. For what? For everything that has ever mattered to you, even when you were the first one to say it didn't, and that you couldn't plan it, and that you couldn't want it.
Not everyone finds it, and if not I'm by no means saying it is impossible to be happy. Maybe you don't even find it in every life.
But it exists. Fuck, it does.
***
This isn't really about what it was supposed to be about. I was going to say something about the what you like vs. are like thing once again, and lay it to rest.
And although I said what I did, and although I was somewhat bitter, and although I was also making fun of myself a little, and although I was writing about a conversation I had with some friends while I was still drunk the morning after an amazing night, and drinking a bloody Mary, and although we laughed our asses off ('cause I think my ultimate test at that moment was wanting someone to play Ms. Pacman with me), it was a joke. It was a friendly conversation. It was something fun to be silly about.
What I really wanted even then -- and what I have always wanted, and wouldn't be surprised if it's what plenty have wanted -- is someone to be excited about life with me.
This is incredibly different from what it sounds like, but I will try to articulate:
It's not someone to make you excited about life.
That is the defining difference.
It is, as someone recently put it, something else. It's when all the sudden this thing that was on the back burner ... it was this tiny voice, and everything else was louder. Everything you could imagine. Everything you had experienced.
They switch. Everything flips, and all the sudden the quietest part is the loudest and everything else is just stuff. It still matters, things still happen, but it's different.
I wouldn't want someone to like exactly all the music I like. For one thing, other than reviewing things, how would I hear something new? But what I would like is for someone to be open to things, or at least when I review an album and it's awesome, and I'm in that excited, telling all my friends about it mode, and talking about the artist I interviewed mode, they want to hear it, too.
You know how sometimes you want to go somewhere and you ask someone to come with you? Some people will ask who is going, and what time, and all kinds of other details, which you provide, only to make your way to one huge, heavy Maybe.
Others, others just say Yes. That's what I want. I want someone to come with me. (And not in that coming with you because they are obligated sort of way, but in a coming with you way that says, "I want to come with you because you are you, and you're awesome, and so going places with you is awesome.)
Someone else told me something else recently. He said something about the Yes, and I knew exactly what he meant, because I had already done it.
Good timing does not exist. It does not. I have not believed that for some time. Instead, I believe in recognizing things that are good (you know, like the birdie and the sugar packet). As for the other thing I mentioned, the other It, I'm a Believer, and if you ever find it, take The Tenth Road, man. I swear. Say yes.
So, maybe saying yes isn't ridiculous at all. Maybe the ridiculous part is the maybe, or maybe it's everything else.
This is a long-winded way of saying at once, I was wrong.
Sometimes, no matter who you are, you've got to admit you are wrong, or at least there are some things you would love to be wrong about.
Well, that's all, except you know what else? I'm cool with that.
Labels: Love, Relationships, Timing
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