"Alone, even doing nothing, you do not waste your time. You do, almost always, in company. No encounter with yourself can be altogether sterile: Something necessarily emerges, even if only the hope of some day meeting yourself again." (E.M. Cioran)

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Sunday, May 25, 2008

Love Sucks

And so it goes ....... living the life of a serial monogamist. You get to a certain age and start to wonder if relationships are really worth it - the emotional highs and lows, the laughter, tears, pain and inevitable disappointment, and the ensuing retreat back to being on one's own again. I realise I'm sounding like a tortured cynic, but let's face it - nothing lasts forever.
I used to place so much importance on finding a life companion, but somehow it ends up going wrong. Inevitably, I guess I prefer to live alone, but that hasn't stopped me from blaming myself for not compromising enough for the sake of the other person. But just how much of myself was I expected to subdue?
I'm envious of those people who find someone they click with and keep it together. I wonder if they are just faking and forcing it, or if one is simply compromising all for the sake of the other - and biting their own tongues till there is barely a sliver left.

Without wanting to get all feminist about it, I have perceived that men, in general (no one person in particular), expect their women partners to be endlessly agreeable with them; consistently assertive and hot in bed; always interesting, tender, attentive, caring and reassuring; happy to be around them when they're uncommunicative (focused on tv or otherwise distracted); non-talkative, non-complaining, non-confrontational and endlessly placating their egos. We're supposed to put up with moodiness, being undermined, neglected and even taken for granted, but never ever complain. I smehow just can't seem to go the distance, myself.