Nice one’s too. I decided a time ago that the male energy does not fit in my space as a constant, it was a lovely, comfortable feeling; I would not be looking for the sharing and caring, just enjoying the fun of it. It’s been wonderful so far. Other than that decision, I also figured that after living a certain number of years one perhaps does not fall in love – or atleast not ‘fall’ like at 18. I once asked my mother, ‘so when does love and sex cease to be important?’ She said, ‘never.’ I thought, ‘sweet Mommy, what a romantic!’
So here am I, following my well laid plans and another delight rains down on me, or rather creeps up on me. We met and wandered up the mountain, delightful. So many intrinsic similarities, so much to talk about, great companionship – total support (remember we take people up mountains and that’s what we were doing) much laughter. The first wariness should have warned me, we were avoiding each other. But this awareness is coming in hindsight. Atleast I was avoiding him, I don’t know if I imagined him avoiding me. But we were still together in strategic places because it was necessary to share those things, we had a connection, it couldn’t be helped – I would wait to show him the best angle for the sunset (eeks) Did I even know I was doing it? This remembrance is wholly embarrassing. Has it started sounding like that 18 year old yet? It keeps getting better. So be together, bond and then feign indifference. Pretending that one is not feeling all the things one is actually feeling ( so comfortable and happy to be together) – know that one? Straight out of trashy romance.
Then it’s over, trip over, large goodbye party, tears and speeches all around – pour the heart out, because there is an excuse for it and you can in public forum – ‘you are like my alter ego – and – I will never forget you’ – cheese and all in the spirit of the moment and you believe it too. That’s all it is another trip, another lot of great people sharing a great time.
Go away, immersed in something completely different. Come back and realize we have a few more days together, just us. Amazing fun and those two days fly and so do I, and now all my preconceived notions have flown away.
The damn heart has a feeling in it, I don’t even want to call it a yearning or a pain, that means it gets a definition. How incomplete one is, when one is conceptualizing this wholly wise being, and you don’t want to admit that Mommy was right, you are an idiot and romance exists and no matter how long that heart has lived it still knows how to go pitter patter. Isn’t that completely exciting, just the discovery that this feeling can still happen – not just the bubbles and glee – but the angst too. Gracias mi amigo for rejuvenating a lost part of me.
In continuation and conclusion: I met a man ….. and then he went.
But that euphoria – the sparkle in the eye, the bubble of glee in the throat ready to break into a chuckle of remembrance – all of that stays. Songs are more melodious, the trees are brighter and the breeze lifts your heart. What a tonic this thing is.
Why? What do you call it? Science says endorphins, brain synapse, chemical reactions or whatever. Most call it love or more realistically infatuation, ok let’s stay romantic and say an itty bitty love. Is it the giving of love, the receiving of love, the excitement of discovery, liking being liked?
I have a super life, great children, many people to love and be loved by, a lovely home, work that makes me happy. Not a thing that I can say is missing. I don’t even have a man growing old next to me, needing reminding of pills or whatever, and I do like the songs and the trees and the breeze does still lift my heart anyway. Yet a man can come along and make the blood sing and the feet dance.
How long does that last if you keep the man? (or the woman in reverse, I am quite certain it works both ways.) That’s such an awful question, but it’s real. Some have it, the books say soul mates or old connections. Or the fact that you work it. And the whole world looks for it, writes, sings, dreams, cries for it. Obviously, look how bright it makes the day!
I think it is just a bit of magic that one needn’t question at all. It should happen every so often. I like that singing, dancing feeling.
I met a man. I have met many and there are all sorts, so why did this start me thinking? Because I thought I had a type that attracts me and that is what I should stick with, else it does not work. Which brings me to the fact that I have been unstuck for the longest time!
I have been trying to sift this thought for the last 2 weeks. Attraction; what constitutes it? I am speaking now from purely my own perspective. I always thought, that for me the physicality was of supreme importance. That may sound hugely shallow, but that is what I truly thought my criteria was. Tall, dark and handsome, straight out of that teenage ‘Mills & Boon’. Stereotypical perhaps, but that is what attracted me. Dark, not dark, tall, was an absolute essential – see – the men in my family are large – that is my perspective of the species. You get smothered in a hug, that huge arm comes around you and the world becomes a safe place….!
Having said that, I married a man that my grandmother called a ‘pocket edition’. His mind however was huge, he was my best friend and I miss that still – because obviously with my stupid predilection for the other type, this lovely, gentle man with immense patience and a zany sense of humour and huge smarts, had no chance with a mad, maverick, person who needed to fly. But he is the one man that I still think of, respect and for all intents and purposes he has been the only man in my life.
Uff! that needs clarification – he is the only man that I acknowledge as an important part of my life. I have not been a nun, nor am I discounting the men that have participated in my life, made impressions,liaisons that have taught many lessons – all of those exist. But if I talk about a man in my life it is only ever that huge mind in a relatively smaller person.
So why do I believe that what attracts me is the tall, dark and handsome? Because I have come to see that as an ailment – a purely physical desirable object – nice to look at, nice to feel, nice to be on the arm of – but truly not necessarily nice at all. Many times just a block that functions on the good looks. Mostly self absorbed and so conscious of their attractions that they almost always feel they can do better than what they have – till they either find someone as dumb as themselves or find all the nice girls taken by those nice, smart, not so overtly good looking guys.
I am talking men here because being a woman that is the experience I have. That does not take away from the fact that as an observant woman I have seen the same syndrome repeat itself in the male psyche too. Infact it is larger than life there – how many men could you tell me, would actually go for the smart, intelligent, self assured woman? Oops! Is that really what you want, she will argue, she will challenge, she may not cook, she probably won’t pick up your socks – why would you want her? For conversation? You have the guys.
Now the question is for the women – the men have it pretty figured already. (There are exceptions and I do know men who want to walk beside their women – few, but they exist).
Do you go for that interesting man with the stimulating conversation, who can make you laugh, who wants to take care of you, because he does value you and will try to please. But dear lord, he is small and not so good looking. He gets hidden in a large crowd, but when he starts conversing, the crowd maybe converges. Do you notice that? Or does that dreamy looking guy over there, standing over everyone and giving you the once over before he strolls across, make your heart flutter because he chooses you and so all eyes follow?
I came to the conclusion a while ago, that for me, the macho male energy is a repellent. It clashes with me and I so am not willing to have it in my life. I thought I could never have a man in my life on a permanent basis. But I still ailed with the thought that the physical was an important point for me. How fixed one thinks one’s ideas are and yet a split second can change them or make you realize that you just thought you had them.
I learned what, obviously, my subconscious always knew – the mind attracts me more than the body. Though if the mind comes in a bit of a hunk, I am not running.