As it might be hard to guess, in my life, I’ve largely been anti-Valentine’s…largely anti-romantic love. I don’t know what has changed this year, but I want to extend some good karma everywhere 
.
I really enjoyed some of Girlslashwoman’s links from her Valentine’s day post. I think recently with the amount of school work I have, and a creeping fear for the oncoming future has made me uneasy about myself. I guess I can wake up in the morning and look at myself and say that everything I’ve accomplished today has been through my sole effort. Being one of the few people my age (21) who are completely independent of parental support, it can be both a highly liberating and lonely thought.
I’ve downplayed my need for love, not just in the romantic sense, but also the familial sense in the past few years. Instead, I’ve focused on me lack of experience in dating and sexuality. When I say this out loud, it sounds kind of sad to me, especially since it implies I have taken my great group of peers for granted. Who knows where I would be without them. I guess love for me became one of those quotidian cliches that I could take or leave. It provided me with no thrill. In comparison, the thrill of chasing boys with all my perceived handicaps represented a much adventurous pursuit. Sometimes, it wasn’t the boys themselves, but the idea of conquest drove me. Each time, I got closer to something, I gave myself a pat on the back because I thought it was hell, that’s impressive, me being an independent brown university student, surviving under the poverty line, in the New World, where none of my family members around my age have ever been. It never occurred to me that love, or real connection, didn’t require a certain set of traits or characteristics. I believed I wasn’t worthy of love, at least not now, in my current state of poverty and volatile living conditions. There’s a lot of irrationality going on here, especially when I realize, my off-campus living arrangements aren’t too different from many fellow student ghetto dwellers. My fixation with my poverty made me overlook the good things in life, or at least take them for granted.
Now that I have been paying closer attention to my domestic duties, it seems that I don’t have to go beyond my financial means to feel secure and proud of my home. Feeling good about my home makes me feel proud, even though I am a slob. It’s nice to think that I can invite friends over and arrange entertainment.
So back to my issues of love….yeah, I guess deep down I felt I wasn’t yet deserving of true romantic love, and that I should take whatever I get. I know I have been going on about a mystery boy for a while now, and I think it’s time to clean about all this. So I will.
I met him in September, but as luck would have it, he moved far far away. I’ve never felt anything akin to sparks immediately upon meeting someone, but it was there this time. I remember wearing my least flattering outfit and wandering the city with him till 3 in the morning and not feeling out of place. Nothing physical happened between us beyond hugging, not even when he returned for Christmas and we hung out every single day. And somehow, I had the nerve to show him how I feel, and he said he felt similarly, but by that time, it was too late – he had gone back.
Now you guys must be wondering? What’s the use of obsessing? I’ll tell you what. I never thought I could like someone so much, without changing myself. And that they could like me back and we would have so many common and complementary interests. It’s like the universe mocking you and simultaneously giving you so much to hope for, hope that you don’t even know is false or not.
I guess this is where an element of personal responsibility comes in. It’s not nice to leave each other hanging, and yearning, especially when a workable solution doesn’t present itself in the foreseeable future. To prevent myself from being hurt, I devised two scenarios.
1. He doesn’t actually like me. He can get away with saying he does just because he doesn’t have to own up to the facts if he is here. This way, he makes himself seem like a gentleman, and protect my feelings.
2. I’d stop all contact with him and hopefully this will all memory of each other.
Notice how scenario 1 shows so much insecurity on my part, and is probably quite unlikely. My rational mind can see that, but during my weakest times, it’s what I tell myself to make myself feel better. I keep telling myself – “Hey, you’re a poor little geek. He is a starving artist. He can have as many groupies as he wants in the world. Why you?” What’s probably more likely is that he is less sure of acting on his feelings for me…I don’t know, what do you guys think? Why would a starving, brilliant artist, want anything to do with me?
I tried scenario 2, with the stopping off all contact. But Valentine’s day came around, and he sent me stuff (digital stuff – about the philosophy of love). Don’t know what to make of it. I wish I never met him.
