June 6, 2004

• I spent about half the day THINKING it was my half birthday.  But it wasn't.  My real half birthday is on the eleventh.  But anyway, since i thought it was for about seven hours, i rejoiced. You know, with a little muffin or cupcake or something and a tiny candle stuck in the middle.  And maybe a light pat on the back, a breif 'Happy Half Birthday to Me' serenade.  You know, another excuse to not study for my finals. 

  
  

  But honestly, excuses are starting to take their toll on me.  Because i reward myself with one every chance i get.  I completed one problem of my math homework.  I deserve a cookie.  I deserve this, i deserve that. 

  
  

  But honestly, i don't deserve anything. 

  
  

  And i don't really feel like getting into why i don't deserve anything.  The outline of it would basically be that i am self absorbed, lazy, and yea that's about it.  And i constantly complain about those two flaws of mine here, so i'll be considerate and save my ramblings about them for another time. 

  
  

  So I'll talk about something a little more interesting. Like love.  Love Lives.  Some people have them, some don't.  Some people think they know what love is.  They think they have it. Some people have no idea, and they know they have no idea.  I have no idea. 

  
  

  When i think about love, a certain experience comes to mind.  Like when i save up for ages to get this shirt i've been wanting. And then when i proudly march into the store with my money, i realize that damn, the shirt is gone.  And it's not like i can just walk out of the store empty handed.  So i end up buying the next best thing.  So i was this close to it.  One step from being satisfied.  But then that one step sort of froze me in place.  So that one step became a permanent Almost.  And so i settle for the next best thing..just as a way to, you know, fill up my disappointment with fake satisfaction.

  
  

  If that makes any sense at all.

  
  

   I can never find love anywhere, so i just settle for the next best thing.  It's like eating just because there is nothing else to do.  I need to take up time, make it seem like i'm doing something that  truly needs to be done. Because you need to eat in order to survive, right?  Right? 

  
  

  But I'm just fooling myself.  As much as i try and deny it, and much as i try and conceal it with all my excuses and my Almosts and my Second Bests, i know it for a fact.  Nothing can substitute love. Of course you can't survive without food. But you can over-eat.  You can end up spending all your attention and time on those fake-satisfying second bests.  Those sugar substitutes.  Those cartons of lactaid milk. You can do that all you want.  Because you'll never have enough of it.  You'll never be full.  You'll never settle down. 

  
  

  And once you think you'll never get that shirt you've always wanted, that love, you don't aim for it anymore.  You don't save up for it.  You save up for something cheaper all the while thinking you'll be just fine with something not as good as what you truly want.  Because you'd be damn lucky if you ever got want you truly desired.  Because to you love is this unthinkable goal.  Equivalent to winning the lottery.  Touching the stars.  It's something you can fantasize about, something you can dream about.  But that's it.  It doesn't go beyond that.

  
  

  So when i look at couples walking passed, i can't help but think to myself 'Is it real?'  'Are they faking it?'  'Did they really get that lucky?'  And once i realize i can't answer my own questions, i discover that maybe they weren't lucky.  Maybe they, too, saw that love was an unthinkable goal. But maybe they didn't see it as an unreachable goal.  And so they reached for it.  And maybe they got it on their own, without the support of luck. 

  
  

  Or maybe they ARE faking it.  Those smiles could be fake.  They could be so desperate for love that once they have the smallest nik of a chance of grasping it, they hold on for dear life and let go of everything else.  Because honestly, it's worth it.  But they take that little nik and stare at it for awhile, sort of forcing some sort of life into it.  Like urging a vase to crash to the floor with just your eyes.  Like Matilda and her freaky telekinesis.  But the nik doesn't evolve into anything.  It evolves into the next best thing.  Which is, in essence, nothing.

  
  

  Believing in love for me is like believing in fairies.  At one point in time i did.  They were everywhere.  There was even one living in my thumb named Fred.  But then something happened and i stopped believing.  For me 'believing in a thing called love' is a bold thing to do.  And i do believe in it. But seeking a thing called love is what i stopped believing in. 

  
  

  But maybe i should rethink that.

  
  

  ~d

  • 5:44 pm
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