Reflections on romance
I read a story tonight, a romantic story. The ending was less than satisfactory to me, with the main character leaving the woman he loved for no reason readily apparent to me. The ending made me angry, really angry, which marks perhaps the entry into double digits of times in my life in which I have been really angry.
Now, any of you who know me (which should be all of you) may know that my last romantic endeavour, if it could be called such, went less than optimally for me- a fact to which my currently single states bears witness.
One point in the story resonated with me- as part of his romantic feelings, the main character feels a strange, possessive joy- a voice inside that shouts, regarding the object of his affections, 'Mine and only mine!'
Looking back, it seems I felt that way too. Is this creepy? Is this wrong?
Then I continued to think, this time about my lack of dating experience.
Is it so bad? Is it really incorrect or pathetic that I hold myself above the idiotic cycle of the 'dating pool', of going out on awkward dinners or worse, movies, trying to find someone who might understand the slightest thing I talk about in my leisure time?
Is it bad that I hold that for any relationship to occur, one must be friends first, that only upon friendship can any romantic relationship be based?
Is it wrong of me to be furious at any utterance of the words 'I don't want to ruin the friendship', because it either means that the speaker is too spineless to come up with a better excuse or too stupid, if it is spoken in earnest, to realize that it means one would rather sleep with strangers?
Is it stupid of me to hold out hope that I could date a woman who not only knows what tapping lands means, or why a particular video game is interesting, but also cares and will discuss it with me?
Am I naive in reviling those who consider eight months of dating to be a 'long term' relationship? To despise those miserable standards by which any dating experience will last five years at best? In which people can be married after two?
Am I being childish in hoping that any relationship I enter into, including the first one, can be a long term one given kindness and patience on my part? (Know that by long term I mean at the lower boundary five years and at the upper one as long as life permits.)
If I sound angry to you, it is because I am indeed furious. I am madder than I can ever remember being, and I have no idea why. I am furious at the turn romance has taken, perhaps not recently or within my lifetime, but in a noticeable trend this century. The story was the trigger, but the anger has likely been building for quite some time.
Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe romance never was what I hoped it to be. I hope I am not wrong.
Anyhow, this post is idiotic upon rereading, but I am curious as to the response it will generate, if any.
Now, any of you who know me (which should be all of you) may know that my last romantic endeavour, if it could be called such, went less than optimally for me- a fact to which my currently single states bears witness.
One point in the story resonated with me- as part of his romantic feelings, the main character feels a strange, possessive joy- a voice inside that shouts, regarding the object of his affections, 'Mine and only mine!'
Looking back, it seems I felt that way too. Is this creepy? Is this wrong?
Then I continued to think, this time about my lack of dating experience.
Is it so bad? Is it really incorrect or pathetic that I hold myself above the idiotic cycle of the 'dating pool', of going out on awkward dinners or worse, movies, trying to find someone who might understand the slightest thing I talk about in my leisure time?
Is it bad that I hold that for any relationship to occur, one must be friends first, that only upon friendship can any romantic relationship be based?
Is it wrong of me to be furious at any utterance of the words 'I don't want to ruin the friendship', because it either means that the speaker is too spineless to come up with a better excuse or too stupid, if it is spoken in earnest, to realize that it means one would rather sleep with strangers?
Is it stupid of me to hold out hope that I could date a woman who not only knows what tapping lands means, or why a particular video game is interesting, but also cares and will discuss it with me?
Am I naive in reviling those who consider eight months of dating to be a 'long term' relationship? To despise those miserable standards by which any dating experience will last five years at best? In which people can be married after two?
Am I being childish in hoping that any relationship I enter into, including the first one, can be a long term one given kindness and patience on my part? (Know that by long term I mean at the lower boundary five years and at the upper one as long as life permits.)
If I sound angry to you, it is because I am indeed furious. I am madder than I can ever remember being, and I have no idea why. I am furious at the turn romance has taken, perhaps not recently or within my lifetime, but in a noticeable trend this century. The story was the trigger, but the anger has likely been building for quite some time.
Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe romance never was what I hoped it to be. I hope I am not wrong.
Anyhow, this post is idiotic upon rereading, but I am curious as to the response it will generate, if any.