antecoitus

I guess for all my rose colored bullshit, I never really believed in one true love nor soul mates. Call me sad and over practical. Call me jaded. Call me the daughter of a stale, less intuitive philosophy. =) I believe that a person grows on his own (and with family and peers) and transforms everyday. In each stage of her* transformation, a person becomes ready for the next person in her life. All the coincidences that lead to a meeting, a glance and a good conversation suddenly then fit her life and person into a puzzle that suddenly make sense. You are a different person in each stage, with each woman or man you are with. Moreover, to compare the intensity of love across relationships is foolishness if not masochism.

Every person that comes into our lives offers us a gift that no other person is capable of at that juncture.

Thus, two people meet, fall in love and work on a relationship.

The only magical factor in all these is the precision at which a person’s circumstances fit to the other.

As I say frequently, you are never prepared for anything. Something smacks you right between your eyes and you just know you have to be ready for it. If fate exists though and if she really pushes us to play her hand instead of ours, she only exists in this way. The way you love, choose the person and the time is all up to you. There is no enchantment connected to the equation of two people. While a spark is a spark, what follows, is purely a matter of choice and a matter of courage.

Sadly though, when puzzle bindings morph, you also need to have the intuition and then the resilience to slide out (anyway, you will be forced to). Otherwise, you will keep on holding on to something, until one day, you’ll open your eyes and not even recognize the face. This is the saddest tragedy of all.

In this life we are given a lot of sliding doors. In my life, some of the ones I have chosen to enter have taken my breath away and then for some indecipherable reason were taken away from me. But each time one door hits me in the nose and breaks it while I try to move forward, a bigger door opens. The choice of stepping into the next door makes me understand myself more, each time.

Love is work, unfortunately. The work that we dedicate to each relationship in our lives and through the choices we make to continue or to get out of each, determines our quality as a person.

I will never be able to bring hope to those who dream of becoming Sleeping Beauty. Sleeping princesses usually wait for a hundred of years, I unfortunately was never built to linger. Nonetheless, while I flutter through gardens, I already have an idea (no matter how vague it is) of what my pollen should taste like.

And no one should take that against me.

This entry was posted on Monday, July 31st, 2006 at 8:10 am and is filed under lithium loads and orgasmic wounds (on relationships). You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.