Unexpected Connections

My weekend, never too dull, best if left for the surprises life wants to offer.

I always want to watch a movie with a girl next to me, in my arms, falling asleep to the idiocy of some cheesy Hollywood flick.

That didn't happen. Instead I cooked dinner for a girl, made her laugh, let her make me laugh a lot, being reminded in the process that one of the best attributes I have is my sense of humor, too often silenced and shoved into the background in an unhealthy relationship where I become a grumpy old man, sullen with the disappointments that seem to define all these relationships. So I we laughed. There was some crying too, on her part; she was too nervous about her future. I listened. Then I remembered another attribute of mine: a listener. It's funny that after the movie (I'll get to that), I made us teas that has these fortune cookie kind of advice written on the paper tip. Hers was "the greatest tool you have is listening". She thought that made no sense, but I was reassured of this quality of mine. It's another quality that becomes invisible when I am in a unhealthy relationship; I often want so much attention I no longer listen.

The movie was really weird. It was an artsy movie about disconnections, lost opportunities, love and cruelty. It is beautifully beautifully made. A third of the conversation was in Cantonese, but interestingly i didn't feel too self-conscious in front of someone who knows little about Chinese dialects. Instead of holding a woman I my arms and enjoying her dreamy scent, we were chatting and stopping the movie because we were so confused at certain points. It was a very nice experience, lacking all the cheesiness of my fantasy regarding a woman on a movie night.

The woman's visit was not planned. It turned out to be a sweet evening in its own right. Then why the constant complaint, "Oh, no one wants to be with me, my fantasies won't be fulfilled, such a sad life." blah, blah, blah. The best prevention and cure for disappointments is to let life be, let it surprise me, let it show me that my fantasies are not as wonderful as what life has in store for me. Of course, if I hadn't taken the step to invite that woman, the night would have been like last Saturday, when I watched a movie alone, being resentful of my loneliness. Life opened a door with this woman in it and i simple walked through. I had to walk through it, but also I had to notice the door being open. Fantasies have a way of closing our mind, preventing you from seeing other doors. Other opportunities.

I said something similar to a friend this weekend: when you make yourself stay in an unhealthy relationship, you miss out on connecting with people that could give you the happiness you deserve. But I also understand at human beings often don't act in their best interest, even more rare they don't act rationally. In my case, too often I bet my hopes and my heart in some slim slim chance of something happening, and I convince myself that all the pain is worth it if only I keep waiting for that slim chance to happen. I finished listening to that lecture series on Death. One interesting point toward the end regarding suicide is if a person has a very very tiny tiny chance of recovering from a terminal illness that causes constant pain, should he just kill himself and forget that tiny chance, or should he continue to endure the unimaginable pain for that sliver of hope to be realized.

The main difference with my case is that the very process of waiting actually diminishes the chance for that already tiny chance to be realized. My lesson seems to be, cruel as I think it is, that fantasies don't happen unless you forget about it; women who stubbornly don't want me only start reconsidering when I stop giving them love. By then, the game is actually over, the fantasy usually has dried out of interest.

The friend I made a comment to about staying out of an unhealthy relationship wasn't really a friend until this weekend. (not the same woman as the movie buddy). That's my unexpected connection. She called on Saturday to see what I was doing, since she hadn't seen me in a while (she's one of those tango people I see only if I go dancing in this little city.) I was touched that she cared, and didn't think much that she called because she was lonely (which is my suspicion when someone calls me out of the blue). It was a her birthday the next day, so out of nowhere, I told her to get together for birthday dinner in New York before dancing. For some strange reason I felt I cared about her, someone I sometimes even avoided. She's a really bizarre person. In any case, part of the motivation must be a connection that came from no one. She asked how I was doing, and instead of saying "Finethankyouwhataboutyou?", I said, "I am struggling a little." I couldn't believe I said that. Was that desperation for someone to hear me complain? Or divine intervention for me to connect to someone? She was receptive, asking me without pushing me what happened. I didn't explain details, only that I needed to avoid someone, and the process of avoidance was hurting me a lot. To say this to a person I often considered at most an acquaintance was a process in itself very liberating. And after that I felt actually quite positive about celebrating her birthday with her the next day. And when I danced with her, I really felt great, felt I wanted to be with her. I normally don't like dancing with her, but something changed, something made me want her, want her the same way I want the best dancers on the floor. To really understand this you need to be a male tango dancer: to hold a woman and dance with her to the music you love.

Again, I don't know why. Maybe she always cared about me but I always pushed her away, feeling unable to connect with her. But she caught me at the right moment, perhaps. I was feeling a little sad that another Saturday was here and I got to do the fun fun thing of taking my car for servicing. And all the while trying not to feel the broken nerves of a heart re-emerging from a blender.

So that was how my weekend ended, having a simple dinner with a new friend, talking to her not about me anymore, but about all sorts of random stuff. True, we don't connect as well as I do with others, but others also had a head-start. I don't know what will happen between me and her from now on. But I enjoyed talking to her, exchanging ideas and advice about relationships. She also is going through a tough time with a relationship that should have ceased to exist in all forms, but now it exists in a worse form than nonexistence: one where she wants him but he just simply enjoys her attention but gives nothing back. I felt sorry for her, but not disdain, which I often do with people in stuck relationships. I wished she could get up and leave. But I listened. I used my tool.

My weekend also ended great because my favorite dancer showed up at the end, just when I was about to change my shoes to face the cold outside. I mostly went to the milonga to dance with her, and I was more than happy to miss my train when she showed up the last minute.

The pain isn't gone. It's slowly ebbing into the ocean of memories. But it is still felt. I need to get through this. I need to be strong by exposing myself to all this. The train ride back was tough, only alleviated briefly by my fatigue and listening to the last lecture on Death. Despite all this complaint about pain, I actually learn a lot. There remains a huge unanswered question about me: why do I require someone to offer me a specific kind of relationship if what we have learned in this blog entry is that spontaneity brings the best kinds of happiness and connection of any kind is what counts more than any conventional expectation. I mean, if the reason I want a girlfriend is to have a warm body to lie in front of a movie with, then I would have missed the opportunity to connect with that girl. What drives my stubbornness? Cultural. Biological. Not sure.