Lying in bed, I was suddenly thinking quite hard about the topic
of love. It's a huge topic- we're all obsessed with it! Books are
written, plays scripted, movies produced, advertisements saturated -
with love, or at least the image we expect to come hand-in-hand with it.
It's everywhere, right from the time we're kids in school, on the
playground - holding hands, hugging and kissing, to when we're adults -
still holding hands, hugging and kissing. Girls discuss it to death and
so, I would assume (as it's impossible for me to know for certain) do
boys, though maybe not quite as much as girls. We all want it. We all
feel that we need it, in one form or another. We love our families
(hopefully), we learn to love our friends, and then we search for
romance.
Obviously, people find both sorts of love (companionable and
romantic), but how on earth does it work? It's incredibly illogical!
Firstly, two people have to meet. Now, their criteria for relational
other have to be at least partially in line with each others' (physical
preferences, intelligent, unintelligent, witty, serious, hobbies,
interests, dreams, aspirations, etc.). Next, they need some sort of
connection - how do they get to know one another? Who has the courage to
initiate the conversation and further the relationship? Trust has to be
developed and there has to be some sort of spark (not just in
romantic relationships). Some friendships don't work because two people
just don't quite connect for no reason at all, so there has to be some
element of chemistry (sorry for the bad pun). And then, if all this
works out, it's a two way street. Both people have to work to keep a
functional relationship/friendship alive and growing. Phew! The
probabilities all stacked together don't seem favourable.
Another
absurd thing is that the criteria for a friend, or even a "best" friend,
is incredibly more relaxed than for that of a romantic relationship. With friendship it seems to be that we are far more willing to put things on the line, betting that this person won't let us down. It's more casual,
letting things develop in their own time with less pressure or stress
and seeing if, in actuality, this person is true friend material; And
this can be incredibly beneficial, because the decreased concern allows
the relationship to expand in its own right, giving us a real feel
for who this person truly is. But why do we do that? Is it because we
are more afraid of being hurt by someone we love romantically than by
someone we are "merely" friends with? That seems wrong because it is
arguable that our friends can hurt us equally as deeply as anyone
because often they know us better than we even know ourselves. Is it
because romantic love is above and beyond friend-love, giving it an even
deeper depth? Arguably that certainly is not always the case, but it's a
valid concern.
It seems so contradictory that the relationship
we are most obsessed with finding is the one we are most cautious in
developing. Instead of the openess and freedom of friendship, we throw
up walls, play games, run in circles, and avoid letting that person know
us. True, the more someone knows you the better armed they are to hurt
you (either intentionally or not), but our closest friends possess the
same weapons. So why do we hold back? Why do I hold back in letting
someone I am interested in as more than a friend get to know me? Why do I
participate in the stupid games and follow these unwritten rules of
society thereby increasing the pressure on an already tough situation?
Difficult to say. We throw up barriers as a self-protection mechanism
but, really, we only damage ourselves.
That's a lot of thoughts without a solution - how do I step away from this practice that restricts how much I let the person I most want to know me get to see the real me? I have no answer. Le sigh.
[PS - did
you catch the punny title?]
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