Waxing Romantic

[31 Mar 2007 | Saturday] 

Category: Writing and Poetry I really went back and forth about sending this email directly to you. In fact, at this very moment, I'm still debating it. The fact is, you already know I'm a romantic and my restating that fact won't make you swoon that much more and all it does is put me at risk of beating the proverbial dead horse. So here are my two options: I either a.) blog this whole thing and talk about the three movies I've just watched, the latter of two which had the most impact or b.) I write you and let you into my world a little more. That seems to be the dilemma at hand. So there you have it folks, and I realize that as I write this, I am looking more and more neurotic by the second, so that blogging option is starting to look insanely attractive. So I'm stuck at home with nothing to do, the setup for any terrible night. I decide to take a look back in my DVD library and pull out a shiner I haven't seen in a dog's age, Before Sunrise and its sequel (which I confess, I've never seen) Before Sunset. Yeah, I know they're romantic drivel, but this is my time OK? I guess I just wanted to see if Sunrise was anything like I remembered it. It was so long ago. I remembered being this young kid, watching it and being full of youth and vigor. My heart swelled at the thought of finding a love as pure as the one Ethan Hawke found in Judy Delpy, and yet like any great Hollywood story theirs was a fleeting love. I don't think I understood, then, how important that fact would be to the overall emotional development between them or how it would force certain issues more so than others. I guess I just watched and believed that it could be that way, that two people could meet, share an intelligent discourse, find that their souls complimented one another's, and simply fall in love. It made logical sense and yet defied everything logical and reached into the emotional... into the magical. It was beautiful and romantic, everything love should be. Watching it just took me back to that place. Took me back to those impressionable, wishfully painful days when I didn't worry so much and when my heart was at ready. I wanted for love so badly that I would risk my neck for anybody. In the end that would be my downfall. I would grow cold and calloused. I would turn into one of those pricks that I detested so, and why? -Because I was scared of being hurt again? Shit, if I look back on those early days, the girls I was risking my neck for were fucked up to begin with. They were confused and fixated on shitty boyfriends who treated them like garbage to begin with. How else did I expect them to perceive me? There I was, saying I thought the world of them when they obviously knew better from years of self-esteem asphyxiation. The guys who treated them like dirt knew them, not me, hence that's who they gravitated toward. Sadly, it's stupid high school bullshit like that which helps to kill so many nice guy tendencies. Seriously, how many times do you have to see that the asshole wins before you want to become an asshole yourself? It's a horrible cycle: stick with who you truly are and be hurt for it, unappreciated, and likely overlooked, or change and get noticed, dates, and plenty of tail but nothing meaningful. -And to think, this all came out of a fucking movie. Two people meet. They connect. They fall for one another. The shortness of the hour hits. They realize how little time they have with one another and make the most of it. By the end, you're left wondering if they actually did fall madly in love with one another or if their little tryst was just the product of panic and youthful hormonal lust? Then came the second film, one I wasn't so sure I'd be able to connect with. Our characters are nine years older, roughly 32 now, and both in relationships that seem well thought out and amiable on all fronts. He's married with a child and she's seeing a photojournalist. Both of them, by all accounts, should be happy. After a second meeting, they pickup almost exactly where they left off. They go on and on about foreign wars and politics in general. He is the cynic, yet somehow the idealist at heart. She remains brilliantly coy, passionate, and full of vigor. Time passes between them, and somehow they are placed in the same situation, wondering if or when they'll ever see each other again. Without trying they confess to being in loveless lives, to giving up on romantic love right after they saw each other last. They confess to making due, to trying their best to make the circumstances and people around them fit, to trying to be the best people they could be. They confess to hiding their hearts and pretending to be happy. They confess to being on the breaking point, but not really knowing it until they saw one another. It's funny how things work sometimes. I guess Before Sunrise perfectly embodies everything I wanted in a romantic, passionate connection, while Before Sunset embodies everyone of my worst fears. No one wants to settle. No one looks into the mirror and proclaims that they'd be OK taking second place. Everyone wants love, which doesn't necessarily mean that you're with the perfect person to everyone else's standards, just your own. There was this part and I just started laughing my ass off when I heard... so Judy Delpy and Ethan Hawke are in this cafe faking telephone calls home to explain the odd set of circumstances that landed them in Vienna with a complete stranger. Hawke, while talking to one of his best friends, confesses that he feels like such an oaf whenever he speaks to Delpy, whom he perceives as hyper intelligent and completely out of his range. I'm telling you, dude, I was right there. I feel the same way about you sometimes. Trust me, I know there are some serious Neanderthals out there. I understand that I'm not an idiot, but I still feel at least a little intimidated by you every now and again. The thing is, I know where it comes from. You see, with most people I can usually get by with bullshitting my way through this or that. I have a relatively firm grasp of the English language. You, on the other hand, have that shit on lock down and there's really no bullshitting you. I almost feel like I have to have a permanent Answers.com window open up to make sure that I'm not using the wrong words in the wrong places. Again it's nothing crazy, it's just that I'm not used to girls that can hold their own or who know when to call bullshit when I've fucked up. It's something I've been begging for for a very long time, and now that I've got it I just don't know what to do with it. Do you catch my drift? (-I could actually relate it to a story my grandma told me earlier today, but I'll save that for later. Suffice it to say, it took a huge weight off my shoulders and had me rolling in the aisles.) As it turns out, I guess I just needed to say something. I wanted to talk. Taking that trip down memory lane really resurrected more than a few untapped feelings. The problem now I'm now faced with is: do I let you in? You know how it is. This amount of brutal honesty, one shot after the other, has the potential to scare a person away. I mean there's nothing wrong with what I'm saying here. They're just thoughts. You're being allowed to see the way I think. Still... ...Maybe I'll save it for another time. I guess I'll see you when I see you. I'll leave you with the words from a street poet in Before Sunrise. It's something I've held onto for a while. Hope you like it. Daydream delusion, limousine eyelash Oh baby with your pretty face Drop a tear in my wineglass Look at those big eyes See what you mean to me Sweet-cakes and milkshakes I'm a delusion angel I'm a fantasy parade I want you to know what I think Don't want you to guess anymore You have no idea where I came from We have no idea where we're going Lodged in life Like branches in a river Flowing downstream Caught in the current I carry you You'll carry me That's how it could be Don't you know me? Don't you know me by now? -Alex