I believe that there are many worthwhile relationships that are out there to be had that do not fall neatly into the "girlfriend/boyfriend", "friend", or "lover" category. Every person is unique, and every two-person chemical combination is even more so. There exist varying levels and flavors of compatibility. It seems a shame to evict fundamentally good people from your life because they don't fit your image of an idealized friend or (mercy me!) "soulmate". Function and dysfunction is what any relationship ought to be judged on.
I also believe that actively seeking love is folly. I don't do it. I place myself in the position to meet new people, but I withhold judgement and expectations. Everybody has something to offer. I believe that. Every person - each unique, discrete packet of humanity is wrapped in a differently shaped (or colored) package, expresses themselves differently, embodies a different temprament, and holds an almost limitless matrix of attitudes. Just like with Cracker Jacks after a little digging and lip smacking - every box contains a prize.
Except for the most insecure / compulsively codependant daters and maters, people want to associate with others who are more or less complete on their own. They want to associate with people with something to offer THEM. They want to associate with people who enable them to bring out the best in themselves. They want to associate with people that help them move in a direction that they themselves believe that they want to go.
By my own personal standard, I feel that I do a pretty good job of being that person. Interpersonally I am loyal, generous, emotionally supportive, understanding, forgiving, patient, and encouraging of growth.
When I met her I thought that I had a fairly accurate understanding of chemistry and compatibility. All my well-honed instincts screamed "proceed". No red flag could be seen from horizon to horizon. It turns out that I was wrong, wrong, very dead wrong. In retrospect I can clearly see how completely wrong we were for each other. I don't like being wrong, especially about matters of peoplekind.
And here, my dear readers, are the meat-n-potatoes of Evan's mischievous heart. Firstly, I was too uncharacteristically enthusiastic about committing. I didn't know many people in town at that time, and she was beautiful and intelligent and quirky and warm - she fit the profile of someone who I ought to have be bonkers about. I was excited about the potential to have a thick deep relationship, and that enthusiasm may have served to shoe-horn her into a realm that was both unsustainable and dysfunctional. Next, as compromising needed to be done, I didn't consider the thing being conceded of much value at all, so I compromised readily and without resistance. These accumulated, but still, no red flags sprung up in fluffy bunny's little wonderland of love (which fairly accurately describes the state of my mind for those two months).
To quote "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran, "passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction"
So in an effort to conduct my life with grace, I have redoubled my efforts to not be too hasty with relationship promotions. If things are to grow, they will grow over time, and the best laid plans of mice and sappy-ass men will hold little sway in the matter. I now remind myself to critically ask a few questions. Is there parity in the relationship? Is this person facilitating me becoming a better "me"? Have I been neglecting my friends? Does this person support me emotionally? Do we make a good "team"? I intend on using the answers to these questions to help determine the level of depth and intensity.
I know that when love comes to town -I'm gonna jump that train- (err!) I mean, I know that when my heart moves - it moves in a large way. All this high-minded cautionary thinking will be drowned by my gushing love fountain. (eww.) So I ask you this, dear reader. Please. If you notice me all suited up in big red heart-emblazoned swim trunks, rearin' to jump down the waterslide of love, drop me a line and remind me to re-read this entry. Consider yourself my personal "floaties". Ok kids, the metaphors are getting weird, that must mean it's time to stop writing.
- Evan Continue Reading…
Posted by Administrator on Dec 30, 2003