I went to lunch today with one of my good friends who inquired about why I don’t blog much anymore. Versus supplying the typical excuse I feed to ordinary people (I’ve been busy, I lost interest…”insert more faux reasons here”), I just told her flat out that I haven’t been able to write recently because anything I say is just too personal.
But what is the point of a blog if you can’t talk about your personal life? I’m not here by any means to put down those involved in my life, or to air anyone’s dirty laundry. But I feel like if I do have readers, you guys are interested in what I have to say, and what is going on (or has gone on) in my life.
I’ve said all that to say, I apologize (profusely) if anyone is offended by the following entry in my blog. I’m just trying to express my thoughts. And I’m finished censoring myself. So that’s my little disclaimer.
On with the show. Not that I’m depressed or anything (who really knows at this point), but I’ve begun to wonder why I never write about the dark side of love. I’ve built love up to be this thing that has taken over my life. I obsess over it, I yearn for it, I’ve formed my entire world around it.
But then again, why shouldn’t I? My faith (Christianity) itself is based on love. I do believe we were put on this earth to not only find soul mates, but to love the people we surround ourselves with as well.
Perhaps my optimism about love has faded due to my past experiences.
I have dated a man who would have given me the world if I asked him to, and to this day, he has been the only person in the entire world I have taken for granted. I claimed to love him, but how can I treat someone I love like a prop? I had never considered myself a bad person until dating him. (No worries, I no longer consider myself a bad person…there was a lot of aftermath).
Thinking back, the fact that I treated a person who loved me as if they didn’t matter, breaks my heart. Who would have known that being treated the way I should be treated could make me feel so awful?
I was in love with a man who did not and would not love me back. That, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call unrequited love. As Kate Winslet cleverly stated in “The Holiday” (my favorite movie), being the unloved one is like “being handicapped without the advantage of a great parking spot.”
I’ve written before about how being in love is this wonderful, life changing, pleasurable and satisfying state of bliss. I don’t think I had considered how it felt when you’re the only one doing the “lovin’.”
Wait! I must pay tribute to the other fillers in my love life—my first and only highschool boyfriend (distance doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder, just distant), a man who turned out to like men (bad judgment on my part), various guys my friends have introduced me to or set me up with….the list goes on. Nobody ever said a girl like me didn’t have time for dating!
It probably doesn’t come as a shock to many of you that I’m in love right now. And I am thrilled to say that he loves me back. Perhaps every cloud does have a silver lining…
So why am I single right now? (Cue bomb dropping noise).
I am tired of hearing the feigned encouraging advice from my friends. “You’re too good for him.” “He’s stupid and doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.” “You just have to be mean to him,” (the girl who gave me that advice is currently not in a good place). Or my personal favorite, “whoever he is, you deserve better.”
And don’t mistake me for one of those “token black women” who is perpetually dating and conversely, perpetually single. Men experience the same thing. For some love seems so easy, but for the vast majority of my 20 something peers, that is not the case.
Why do we torture ourselves like this? For eight years (I wasn’t allowed to date until I was sixteen, thanks mom!), every single aspect of my life has been influenced by my desire to fall in love. We strive for that perfect body, look for the perfect job, and alter our characteristics to make up a perfect personality—and all for what? So we can be the perfect person to be our perfect counterpart.
Screw perfect. That crap doesn’t exist.
We are imperfect—every single one of us.
Since this entry is not some “woe is me,” manifesto, I will go ahead and lay the honest to God truth on all of you: we will never find the perfect person, but we can, and will, if we wait for it, find the perfect relationship.
So, is there a dark side of love? Absolutely. However, even though my confidence in the delight of love and companionship has dwindled ever so slightly, I’m still convinced that that perfectly imperfect relationship is out there waiting for every single one of us.
All we can do is keep hoping for, praying for, and anticipating it.
And in the meantime, remember that love is more than just getting married and having babies. Family, friends, coworkers—I love every single person who has influenced my life—the good and the bad. Because, let’s face it: they’ve made me who I am. After all, it still is ALL about love, right?
