Variations on a theme.
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Lust is an emotion, love is a choice.
The heart-shaped box of chocolates is empty. The roses are drooping, if not brown and crispy at the edges. Another Valentine's Day has come and gone. And what do I have to show for it? Nothing. Not even a mildly sappy song was played on my iPod two weekends ago. That's right, I completely forgot about Valentine's Day. Okay, I may have remembered for about a minute when I saw the heart-shaped cookies in the dining hall. But that was about it. I think this was the first year the 14th was just another day. No worries about having a date. No worries about not having a date. Complete indifference. This concerns me a bit. Has my string of utterly disastrous romantic relationships finally caught up to me? Have I had enough after my laundry list of calamitous romantic cliches (everything from being stood up on New Year's to a gay ex)? Am I actually too jaded (at eighteen?!) to care anymore?
Maybe. I'm more guarded than I used to be, typically tight-lipped even to close friends about personal matters, and ever ready for the impending wave of disappointment. I refuse to list my relationship status on Facebook (much to the dismay of many a nosy friend). I laugh whenever I find myself falling back into stereotypical flirty girl character. But, after I heard the quote above, I realized this was a choice. You may feel the lust, but you choose to fall in love. You choose to go beyond making eyes and blowing kisses. You choose to careen headfirst into the messy, wonderful unknown. I have chosen to think with my head. To quote a seemingly omniscient redhead we all adore, I "used to believe in a lot more. Now I just see straight ahead." I think I may have painted myself into a corner though. Whenever I try to shut my head up and follow my heart, I can't. All I see are consequences. The bad consequences. Jenny Lewis continues to dictate my life (except on "I Never," of course). These may be just the self-psychoanalytical ramblings of a confused young adult, but it seems like the older I get, the less I know. And the less I know, the more I fear. The more I fear, the further I retreat.
I'm trying though. I'm trying to be the "I Never" girl. I'm trying not to feel stupid while giggling uncontrollably at some cute guy's lame joke. I'm trying to (as a friend put it) "catch up on the hopelessly romantic teenage girl years" I supposedly missed (I seem to have had an epic fail in this department recently, but that's another story for another day). I'm learning not to hate oddly biographical songs (Not that I have ever hated Rilo Kiley of course. Just when I realize my life is being played out before my ears). I'm typing this blog for crying out loud! Haha.
Maybe one day. Maybe Ivey needs to give me a good shake, subject me to more sappy movies, and force me to cry more. Maybe I'll go listen to some more Bon Iver now.
Comments (10)
Raw, but sweet - and funny, bo-lu.
I like to think that emotions are choices, too, makes things so much easier ;)
In all seriousness, I think that both lust and love are emotions, and sometimes they are the sides of the same coin. That's a good thing. So lay back, and enjoy the ride, Pam. Trust me, the more bumps down the road, the more interesting it is.
Well, you know, love is just an excuse to get hurt, and to hurt
Sorry for the word vomit. I haven't been myself lately, especially these past few weeks. Or maybe I'm starting to act like my old self. I don't really know. Might be a good thing though--I've been on a creative kick lately. And I know my friends appreciate me not blowing a fuse every time my private life is discussed.
Mike, thanks. Someone used those same words to describe my art the other day. Maybe I'm just that sort of person.
Oh Anna. Sometimes I wish those bumps weren't so cute and charming. Haha.
Jox, now that I'm sufficiently depressed...just kidding. I do wonder though whether or not Oberst will return to his roots soon.
"The older I get the less I know" means the more I have the opportunity to learn. I was so happy when I got over being a teenager with that burden of angst. Yeah. That was after my second marriage was over. But I felt like a whole person at last and I woke up in the morning with the first thought, "Maybe I'll meet someone today." And I did.
Yeah. Feel the lust and choose to love. That's a good choice. Notwithstanding that it led me down that career through two marriages and a number of affairs. I am this person and I have my family at the bottom of that slide. You choose to love but you might not ultimately choose who you will love for good. Life is twisted that way, like a peppermint stick.
I'll post a song for you. I can't make a Mog player right now, and I have someone to go kiss good night.
Good choice, Spike 1.
bohemianlullaby, I can't believe how articulate and self-aware you are for someone only eighteen. So many synapses!
I thought the same thing as Spike.
Thank you Spikes! Haha. I try.
And Spike 1 fantastic song!
You're welcome. The album of the same name is full of wounderful songs and outstanding mucicianship.