I still wake up with this burden of sadness. Why? I am tired of it. Can I choose to be not sad? It's a choice, of course, but whence comes the strength? And frustratingly puzzling, when will this end? Is it really because everyone morning of sadness is correlated with waking up alone? It's perplexing, it's vexing, I need to get up.
And I did. It's the weekend when we lose an hour, an indication we are entering spring, making the first cold step into a warmer future.
"Spending time with you is more important," I said to this girl many years ago. I wanted to spend the weekend with her, or at least a part of it, instead of going to the tango festival held in our community here. That was the first festival, I believe. In one month, it will be another one, fifth one, reminding me that I have been dancing for five years. I said this to that girl because? Why? Because I wanted to wake up finally with someone? I don't think I was feeling this frustration and helplessness back then. Perhaps I had more hopes back then of winning the heart of a woman. I was already tired of waiting for someone girl, and I can't believe, looking back, that there would be so much so much more to learn about life and women and everything linked to it. Or perhaps, everything is linked to something deeper. Why else are my most angry moments in a "relationship" about my ego.
How do I strengthen that ego? How do I not let rejections bother me so much? Or minimize the jealousy?
These are my bubbling thoughts in the morning of this Saturday, not a "normal" time for my blog. I am hungry and I have no milk. When I move to New York, I would put on my jacket and some pants quickly, run down across the street, or even around the corner, perhaps, and at least grab a quart of milk. Maybe pick up some veggies and make a fresh lunch, as opposed to making a huge collection for the week that becomes boring very quickly.
You, the reader, especially if you have been following this, what are you thinking? I wonder what you think in the morning. If you're fortunate enough to wake up and think about more practical things like eating breakfast, buying milk and other things, and maybe even looking forward to this beautiful day. If you're reading this it's because you know me, you care, at least. And I wonder what you think.
I spent the evening with my friends. One I haven't seen in ten days. She seemed exuberant to see me. I am lucky to have people in this world who are exuberant to see me. Perhaps it's one reason I like seeing my little nephew, who hasn't built too many of these trashy useless walls we adults build. Who demands attention without making the demand complicated, so complicated that we end up feeling weird, if not hurt. And I myself can demand attention from him without feeling that the rejection means something. It's simple. He is always "exuberant" to see me, even just to hear from me. Why can't things be this simple with a woman I want in my life in the terms of love that is even more enriching and rewarding. Really? The toll for the path of romance must be paid with all the dinars of your soul? Really? It's a little ridiculous.
This same friend, the art friend I have mentioned sometimes, commented on my new jacket and new hoodie. She thought I could almost be an artsy boy, looking super hip. I was super-flattered. I didn't need her compliment; I already felt great deciding on my own fashion. But hey, that's what friends are for, giving you gifts you don't need but make you extremely happy. I laughed a lot last night with my friends. I made them laugh. The dance sucked for all of us (except when we danced together, of course!), but it's all right. We had each other, we complained about the dances, the milonga, love, men (for them) and women (for me), and the imbecility of life in general when we have to deal with all these trenches and barbed wires and walls we find ourselves in.
Is that another facet of the "Connection"? I have been wondering about what it means to connect to someone I am interested in, even in love with. The physical attraction. But not only. A friend was telling me the other day about her complicated non-romance romantic relationship with a no-longer-platonic close friend. Wow, why is everything so complicated? How is she connected to him? Really? Just friendship plus wild sex in bed? (Not even wild, most of the time.) She told me that ideally it would be like tango. You are friends when you are sitting down, chatting, but for those twelve minutes of dancing, you lose yourself in the romance, in the craziness, and then, you're back. But life doesn't seem to allow these clean, definitive boundaries when it comes to sex. But if it did, is that really fulfilling?
I think about the women who have left me. Whatever connection we made was not enough to overcome the walls. I mean, I went to India for a woman, we went through some extremely deep experience together. And now, I haven't talked to her at all for almost a year. Really? Sounds like a joke. Do I have to experience an earthquake and a tsunami in Northern Japan with someone for them to see how ridiculous the walls are? But not blaming them, only, if blame is what I want to do. My ego always gets in the way, wouldn't tolerate seeing them with another man or even the thought of it, wouldn't tolerate the simple act of desertion. It wouldn't even tolerate a rejection in the beginning. Walls are immediately set up. But if I could reign in on the childishness of my ego, would we really connect? I wonder if it isn't the very same ego that convinced me to be with these women the first place (when they said "yes"). They are always beautiful in the way that other men would find beautiful, and I always found some excuse to make me think there was some connection. Was there really any substantial ones? I don't know. But it was clear that when the ego was battered, I stopped seeing the connection, whether there really is any or not.
I know I feel connected to my friends. Through talking about silly or important stuff, through laughing, joking, exploring deeper topics together (not necessarily philosophical, might just be hard topics personal to us), or simply the fact that we spent time together, telling each other every now and then we loved each other. Is any of this relevant in a romantic relationship? Or when you strip away the idealism, a romantic relationship is just really about attraction, fulfilling biological urges, and pretending your fantasies about love might partially be realized. I like my friends. I haven't ended up liking any woman who has left me. I wish that weren't so. I wish after a "breakup", we could explore really how we can connect if all the walls barred us from driving down the romance road. But usually, the woman feels bad, guilty, and doesn't want to deal with this, doesn't want the "cycles", and me, my ego can't get over their rejection, or worse, of course, worst of all, seeing them with someone else. Sounds so depressing for a Saturday morning, ah!
Now let's start the weekend, with doing some taxes. Joy.
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