The Devil is in the Details...

[16 Oct 2006 | Monday] 

I guess I've always been looking for some middle ground. It's not that I needed a physical manifestation of my inner center, but it was that emotional center, or at least finding that emotional center when it came to dating members of the opposite sex. See, I can be at my center when I'm by myself relatively easily. It's not too much of a stretch to just ask and allow yourself to be okay... well, with yourself. Getting over the lonely is the only real obstacle there. My problems in dating have alwasy arisen because I was never sure where I stodd with that girl. I always had a pretty good feeling about how she felt. My own feelings, however, reamined a bit of a mystery. The problem is this: within the english language there is no middle ground, no word for what a person can feel that crosses that vast chasm between "like", "care, and the ominously complicated "love". That word, "love", is not something to be taken lightly. There's a mambo line worth of issues and double meanings that follow that one thing. It's not as easy as, for instance, "like". You say you "like" someone, well then guess what? That's all you've said! You "like" them. Sure, they can run with that word and over-complicate the matter, but that's all on the other person. As far as anyone knows, liking someone never really led anyone to believe anything more than a very basic affection for another human being. Clean, to the point, I like that. "Love" on the other hand, well anyone who's debated saying it to another person knows that it's never as simple as  saying "I love you". God, there's a laundry list of things to consider, a whole process of opening up to them, an incomprehensible amount of trust and vulnerability that have to be extended upon admission of that one word. Are you seeing my point? We go from a simple affection to well... the end all, be all of the human/emotional experience with no stops inbetween for those of us who actually understand language the real weight of said language. So I'm going over it again and again in my head. What do I feel? I know it's not that. Is it this? Do I love? Can I love? Is it even close to love? Or is it simply that what I fel amounts to so much more than like that it actually bothers me to be at a loss for an explanation as to how I feel. Now that might not resonate with the lot of you, but I'm a writer; this, writing, is how I express myself. This is all I've got. So when something like a language inadequacy or barrier, if you will, keeps me from explaining, not only to other people but to myself, exactly the way I feel, then yes that bothers me a great deal. The reason I bring this all up is because I have been considering telling Pam that I feel... well, that I feel so much more than like... and that I guess that I've been wondering even to myself whether this is what love is. I mean, the definition, the true essence of love changes as you mature, right? What was once all powerful and simple, is it the same when you get older? Obviously I've seen more of the world and experienced more, does love then lose it's majesty? Is it so mind-blowing, explosive and full of heat... or is it that simple confort, that company at the end of the day that's just willing to put up with your shit, regardless of how much there might be, just to get a nugget of the good stuff? Or am I asking questions when questions shouldn't be asked? A thousand people will say a thousand times that you'll know you're in love when you're in it, "you'll just know". To them I ask, did those people who make up the 66% divorce rate (a great little bonus for those of us who are fortunate enough to simply exst in Southern California) all "just know" too? Seriously, are two thirds of all those poor bastards who tie the knot everyday just fooling themselves? Or is it exactly how I think it is: that the majority of the people who don't know what the fuck they're talking about are considered healthy, while those of us who actually consider this stuff and have so much trouble with love and all that crap are thought of as "emotionally-conflicted". Hell yeah I'm conflicted! Maybe you should stop asking why I am, and start wondering why you're not! But-- well, fuck that. Hi, my name is Alex and I'm emotionally constipated. By the way, Pam, I wanted to say what I said to you and not just anybody. Sorry.