Lost love

I can sit here alone and listen to Barber Adagio in tears, thinking of the beautiful curves of her hips, in her skimpy underwear, and imagine kneeling there with my arms around her hips and kissing whatever I can, just pressing my face against her and closing my eyes and wishing it would never ever end, and then opening my eyes right away to see everything I can so I can remember it all forever. Maybe this is the memory, the snapshot, that comes to mind at my end, as I breathe my final few times, and the snow falls silently outside in the trees. It’s all that matters; to love, to have and to hold; to give completely, eagerly, hungrily, to become one with her, and have your creation stand as testimony to the two of you and who you were. One must have this great love. I must have this great love.

There are worn sayings about ‘the love of a good woman’ and references to its ever-presence as a background note…but I believe it’s the melody, it’s the entire substance of the symphony you write. Children and family, of course…but they are on the foundation of the two of you. I have never seen the importance of a woman to a man’s life be given its due. Maybe it will come to the fore, before the age of enlightenment that started in the ‘60s comes to an end. I know I must love somebody, and be loved back, before I’m fit to step out into society. I have no purpose on my own; that part of me does not exist. There are no cures or salves for lack of ambition or for needing encouragement. For me, a great love comes first, and perhaps only; what I do to make our lives possible thereafter is immaterial to me.

My Princess

So I saw this little scene in a TV ad: They show some young beauty onscreen, and a guy’s voiceover, obviously to her, is ”You are so beautiful and delicate and wonderful, I want to give you the kind of life you deserve.”  OK, standard fare; guys, we’ve all felt that way at some point, because we think of our special woman as some kind of princess, we want the whole world to treat her as carefully and lovingly as we do. I think we’re wired to exalt our mates that way…history is loaded with stories of what men in power have done for the loves of their life. Do you know how big the Taj Mahal is? Huge; almost 35,000 sq ft. So we’ll say stuff like this now and again, and MEAN IT. The female reaction in the room to that TV ad was “What about the rest of us? So what if we’re not beautiful enough? What do we deserve, then?“

I sure didn’t expect that. So many things hit me at once…like, these women don’t think they’re beautiful? And how was I unaware that women don’t think they’re beautiful? And they are beautiful; I thought they knew that! I thought the ad was about them, but they didn’t! To my eye, women always act like they’re beautiful, and I’ve always thought they all were. Is that why they fuss over hair and makeup so much while we men are always saying you don’t need it? ‘Cause you don’t need it. All women are beautiful, and as a guy I’ll venture to say we’re all crazy about every one of you. So is this why every time I said I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world you just rolled your eyes and brushed it off? You thought I was lying? You thought I was trying to talk you into something? That’s mean, and that’s really sad. I meant it every time, and I still mean it every time. You are my princess, and like every other guy, I want to have my princess. I need you there to be the focus of some part of my life, I need you there so I can make you happy, I need you there so sometimes I can look over at you in the middle of a crowd of people and think to myself, “That’s my girl. That’s my partner. I make her happy, and I make her laugh.” And as for worrying about how you look, well, sure, when you’re in your best dress and  done up just right in killer mode, hell yeah, you’re breathtaking…but for my 

money, the sexiest and most beautiful you’ll ever look is when you open your eyes in the morning, after a night of lust and love, and your hair’s a mess all over the pillow and your nighty or shirt or whatever is all rumply and sideways and half off, and we look at each other and smile in a plain and simple expression of love and unity that says a thousand wonderful and perfect things; two hearts talking directly where words would surely fall short.  You don’t have to go to great lengths, or any lengths, to “make yourself beautiful,” because you are beautiful; you’re a woman.  And I want to give you the life you deserve, princess, so put on this tiara and let’s get going. You’re making us late for the movie.

Prescription: More sex

 When men and women agree, it is only in their conclusions; their reasons are always different.

                                         George Santayana (1863–1952), U.S. philosopher, poet

At first glance, this looks a lot like the punch line of a joke. The male and female brains are proven to be different, and that is observable in our communications. Seems like communication between any two people is somewhat hit-or-miss, as of course it would be because there are too many variables involved. The key words in what you say may have a slightly different meaning to the listener, or might call up a bad memory that colors the way your statement is received. Your mood or intentions may be misread, and change the interpretation of your words. Or in the case of a male/female exchange, you would likely find on closer examination that your paths to the same conclusion are completely unrelated, and I do mean completely; I’ve seen this for myself. To my astonishment. You can investigate this on your own, if you dare.

I’ll get to the sex part…hang on.

 

So when you talk to your mate, even to carry on about how much you love her, and how wonderful she is, you don’t know exactly how that is received. Worst case example, maybe you use a phrase that she’s heard before elsewhere, in a relationship that ended very badly. She thinks it’s a big lie. You never know. While you think you’re being attentive and loving and all that, you might actually be creating an “issue” that will surface somewhere down the line. The spoken word depends on the listener to extract meaning. It’s a lousy system!

So…what’s to be done?

Enter the wordless realm of sex. Even in the silence (optional), it is still up to each of you to extract meaning from your intimacy. With sex, it’s not just that you feel good physically; aware or not, you are interpreting the attentiveness and care of your partner as messages of love, and the brilliance is that it’s in your own mind, in the words you choose, and the message you receive is exactly what you want to hear. There are no misunderstandings in passionate kisses. As a result, having sex recharges your emotional and mental stores, the innermost parts of your being that benefit from being in love. Self-esteem, confidence, comfort, security, etc…all that good stuff.

Frequent sex serves a vital purpose, then, besides being whole lots of fun. The reinforcement of your love trivializes any petty spats, and periods of intimacy enhance your tendency toward cooperation, to work through the real problems. It creates and maintains a strong undercurrent of unspoken love and understanding, and this force makes it easier for two people to work together on life’s challenges.

More sex: it's good for you. It's what's for dinner. Mmm mmm good. No, wait...umm...

Who’s in Charge?

Sometimes in a relationship there’s an issue about who is in charge, about one person telling the other what to do, how to look, even how to act. It can be a struggle for control, if the personalities don’t mix right. It can also look to outsiders as if one person is strong and in charge and the other is weak.

In a related statement, which will make sense further down: I have always felt that I could love and marry almost any girl I’ve ever met…which is probably why I’m an inveterate flirt. I just love them all.

The common thread here is that people draw the line for themselves as far as what things to stand up for, and what things matter so little that they let their partner have the decision. If there’s something not right about what I’m wearing, I’ll change it; couldn’t care less one way or the other. Want to go to this restaurant, and never that one? OK. Doesn’t matter. I let anything peripheral like that just unfold any old way. What does matter is what kind of person you’re with, and the people I’ve known pretty much have it right. We don’t differ where it matters. I don’t tolerate lying, or selfishness, or being inconsiderate, or arrogance…it’s the core stuff, what’s inside that counts, and if that’s all good then the rest is just window dressing. If I want to spend a night out with the girl I love, and if I happen to be doing that, then it doesn’t matter where, how, what…The details can fall where they may, I figure if we’re together then the important part has been taken care of. Everything I care about has been taken care of.

I’m sure there have been bystanders through the years who thought I was being bossed around, but they didn’t know what they were seeing. They naturally interpret interaction based on their own experiences, and most people would be at a loss to interpret the way we played around. Upon overhearing a conversation, you can only imagine your own motives as the reasoning behind what you hear; you aren’t likely to guess the actual thoughts. 

So, in establishing the dynamics of the relationship it’s just a matter of choosing your battles, drawing the line where your comfortable, and applying your personal perspective on what’s important to you. It’s a very individual choice, and it's just between the two of you. Don’t waste time worrying about what anyone else thinks.

About marriage

Here’s a pithy saying that I love…

No matter how good-looking she is, somebody is sick and tired of putting up with her bullshit.

Which means you’d better not base your relationship on looks, because no matter where you start it’s all about compatibility in the end. In spite of what many people seem to believe, marriage isn’t some kind of contest to see who marries the best-looking mate. It’s about who’s smart enough to marry their best friend; a best friend that they’ve allowed themselves to fall in love with. And then you go from there, because being in love gets deeper after you’re married, if you’re any good at it.

And that involves mostly trust. If you both believe your vows, if you mean it, then you feel safe enough to share of yourself on a day-to-day basis. To be open and unhesitating in what you think and say. When two people do that, and learn each other and get comfortable, that’s how a thousand tiny connections are made between the two of you over the years. That’s the unspoken thing you see sometimes in a close couple, the quick glance or the sly smile between them.

I know there are all kinds of successful relationships, or I suppose there are, but one thing I believe in is doing everything together, or reasonably so. Obviously, why wouldn’t I want to spend all my time with my best friend? I have since childhood, whoever it was at the time…seems like a good habit. This seems to be a touchy subject with some, who feel that there are rules about this among principled people. That ‘normal’ independent people would need to have their own life. Go ahead, follow somebody’s rules, live up to the expectations. I’ll just do what I like.

One thing you cannot do is lie to each other, because that’s breaking trust on a grand scale. If that happens, it’s not a marriage anymore; it’s just a stupid game. You’ll never say anything without double-checking it in your mind first. You force yourself to be vague and evasive. When you start to worry about spending time together, about what might come up in conversation, you certainly aren’t sharing your lives anymore. It’s a cancer that spreads fast, and touches everything in the relationship. How could you ever relax with pending lies circling overhead?

Mark Twain covered that, and he gets the last word:

If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything.