Tag: companion

  • What dreams may come…

    Being in a somewhat melancholic mood today, it’s easy to slip into a daze about the what-if’s and the if-only’s of life. Disappointment is born when I see beauty denied, and regrets are born when I see beauty taken for granted, by me as well as others. I have healthy doses of both in my life, but neither is strong enough to taint my optimism for the future even though holding on to such optimism is getting to be quite a challenge on its own.

    I’ve often said that I’m not built or designed to be alone. I have this aching desire to want to take care of someone, to share a life with her and to create an intimate space that is uniquely ours, built on every romantic notion I’ve ever harboured, and embellished with every ideal that I court. I want to prove to myself that a romantic life is still possible against the backdrop of horror that comprised the canvas of my life to this point. 

    I still subscribe to the naive notion that if only a few days of absolute bliss, peace and consoling comfort is experienced in my last moments on this earth, it would render every heartache and every pain impotent. It will cause every regret and every disappointment to recede in humiliation, and will leave me with an eternal smile subtly formed at the corners of my lips when I take my last breath.

    At the moment of my death I don’t want to smile only because the struggle is over. I want to smile because I was successful in proving to the world that despite their hypocrisy and insincerity, I was able to rise above it and still achieve my moment of bliss in spite of their efforts to dismiss me as a dreamer. I know it’s possible. But the fatal flaw in my plan is to find one with as much conviction as me to secure this dream that has been so elusive. But even in this I am optimistic that I will succeed in finding her. The one that will embrace my child-like tendencies, my romantic inclinations, my overbearing responsibility at times, and my overwhelming drive to achieve that which others mock in my aspirations. In return, she’ll enjoy nothing less from me.

    Edit: This was my 800th post.

  • realistic-idealist:

    it’s weird, realizing that we’re never going to find that one person who will understand us like we’ve always wanted to be understood.

    Never say never…the trick is to be paying attention at the time that that person does come along, and be sure not to be distracted by the irrelevant, or the insignificant, or worse still the aesthetic. We’re so busy conjuring up images of perfection in what we’re looking for in someone that we want as a soul mate, or at least a true companion, that we forget to notice that those conjured images are focused on the packaging and not the substance.

    We seek someone who will understand us, love us unconditionally, and accept us with all our flaws, but when they come along, we’re not willing to accept them because they’re not fair enough, trendy enough, cultured enough or socially acceptable enough, and all they end up being is a great person but…

    So instead of conjuring up images of what the perfect partner will be like, wouldn’t that time be better spent realising what’s really important? We always seem to know what we want, but rarely what we need. In a time when sensationalism and masks are in vogue, it’s almost impossible to obtain a clarity of thought that would allow for a distinction between the mundane and the significant, the urgent and the important, or the reality from the dream.

    This is not a critique of the original post, or the blogger…simply a vent of a passion that the post aroused within me. Thank you for sharing that thought.

  • Another Brain Dump…

    I wish I could see myself through the eyes of others. It would save me so much energy, and spare me so much grief. Self-imposed grief because of my demented view of myself. But in the absence of affirmation to the contrary, it’s the only perception I can rely on. And I’m not about to articulate that demented view to anyone, so there’s no chance of that perception being tampered with reality, or optimism for that matter. 

    My desperation for a partner, a companion, a cloak for my soul never recedes. I’m distracted from it by whimsical fascinations from time to time, but there’s nothing to distract me from it when I sit alone in a crowded space smiling and interacting with others knowing that there’s no one about to lean over my shoulder to unexpectedly whisper something into my ear…something that only they know will bring a smile to my face, or make my chest constrict with excitement. No one to place an affectionately assuring hand to cup my cheek and chin from behind while sneaking a kiss on my other cheek. No one to look behind my eyes and smile a piercing smile that unsettles me, no matter how many times they smile that smile.

    So I remind myself that I need to be more optimistic about life, and in the process I forget that that in itself is already optimism. My expressed need for inclusion is disproportionate to my need for inclusion, and so my independence, my aloofness, my oftentimes smug sense of portrayed confidence will protect my tormenting secrets of loneliness, which is exactly what I want, but not at all what I need. What I need is someone to want to be there doing all those things, not because I asked them, nor because I promised the same in return, but simply because, like me, they have a desire to want to give of themselves without the expectation of reciprocation, but simply to feel the appreciation it deserves. 

    It seems I dream more than I do. I hope more than I expect. I die more than I live.

  • Too cute for words…

    (Source: http://player.vimeo.com/)

  • I’m incompatible with anyone else since I met you.

    Cynically Jaded