So, I have been musing lately upon the death of real romance. Now, now, now I hear you all clamouring to tell me it is not true, but honestly, from what I have heard it may have never been at all. It is not just the fact that corporations have stolen from us the real meaning of Christmas or convinced us that buying little teddy bears is what a girl really wants, to me it is looking at all the day to day struggles and wondering if there ever was really time for it.
Maybe it is a working class sentiment, because it seems to be that if you had enough money to not be working all the time or taking care of kids, perhaps there would be time to stare deeply into someone's eye and really get to know them. Instead of make their lunch, do their laundry, see them briefly at dinner, then maybe have quick sex while you count on you fingers how many hours of sleep you'll get.
Perhaps I am just feeling cynical, or more so then normal, today. I certainly don't mean for this to be a downer. I love the concept of romance. However, I find myself in a quandary. It seems like all the guys are one or the other extreme --too shy, overly sensitive, fluffer-nutters who want you to make all the decisions and be their Mommy or overly macho aggressive smarmy cheater player types who posture like rainforest birds. Am I off the mark here?
However, I find, by the same token that I have become some sort of weird, meant to be alone, hybrid woman. A little aggressive, funny, and outgoing with friends, but with a need to act like a shy unconfident drooler when faced with an actual guy. This is not to say I am not a happy person or that finding romance in my life is difficult. I treat myself well and remain, at least to me anyway, attractive in appearance.
Well, it is just a musing anyway. People are complicated like jigsaw puzzles with missing pieces, we rarely see the whole picture of them anyway. And moreover, if we ever really did, we would either frame it or dump all the pieces in the box and take it back.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Stick a fork in it--it's done.
So, I have been musing lately upon the death of real romance. Now, now, now I hear you all clamouring to tell me it is not true, but honestly, from what I have heard it may have never been at all. It is not just the fact that corporations have stolen from us the real meaning of Christmas or convinced us that buying little teddy bears is what a girl really wants, to me it is looking at all the day to day struggles and wondering if there ever was really time for it.
Maybe it is a working class sentiment, because it seems to be that if you had enough money to not be working all the time or taking care of kids, perhaps there would be time to stare deeply into someone's eye and really get to know them. Instead of make their lunch, do their laundry, see them briefly at dinner, then maybe have quick sex while you count on you fingers how many hours of sleep you'll get.
Perhaps I am just feeling cynical, or more so then normal, today. I certainly don't mean for this to be a downer. I love the concept of romance. However, I find myself in a quandary. It seems like all the guys are one or the other extreme --too shy, overly sensitive, fluffer-nutters who want you to make all the decisions and be their Mommy or overly macho aggressive smarmy cheater player types who posture like rainforest birds. Am I off the mark here?
However, I find, by the same token that I have become some sort of weird, meant to be alone, hybrid woman. A little aggressive, funny, and outgoing with friends, but with a need to act like a shy unconfident drooler when faced with an actual guy. This is not to say I am not a happy person or that finding romance in my life is difficult. I treat myself well and remain, at least to me anyway, attractive in appearance.
Well, it is just a musing anyway. People are complicated like jigsaw puzzles with missing pieces, we rarely see the whole picture of them anyway. And moreover, if we ever really did, we would either frame it or dump all the pieces in the box and take it back.
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1 comment:
I'm more and more thinking that marriage is totally against all human programming. Sure, we have 10% people who mate for a lifetime, 40% who stay together just until the kids leave, and 50% of us who just flounder through relationships and hope for the best. But in reality it's 90% who flounder and how long romance or relationships last is how long someone can put up with someone elses's crap. It's a test of wills.
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