The Princess or the Pee-on?
"How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me."
- WH Auden
My last posting seemed to spark some thoughts from some of my closest friends, and some new friends, about the metrosexual, the laws of attraction and our roles in relationships. Whether it is better to be absolutely adored, the princess syndrome, or love a little bit, or a whole heck of a lot more, as WH Auden so aptly put. Today, I was lucky enough to be directed to a great blog written by Lucky Spinster (it is fecking great - be sure to check it out)who added her thoughts on the subject and really started me thinking about which relationship role I want to take, the princess or the pee-on?
I don't have vast relationship repertoire, but I have had a few kicks at the can. Out of all of them, I have really only been in love once - I can feel my heart in my throat, throw myself in front of a moving bus, zsa-zsa zsu kinda love. His name was Dennis and I met him one summer when we both worked together at the same currency exchange. It took us 4 months before either of us got up the nerve to ask the other out on a date. We became each other's "first" and spent 9 months with each other. Dennis ended it because "he was afraid and things got too serious". I was hurt. But we decided to remain friends.
Fast forward two years later. Two friends, sitting on a balcony, drinking red wine, talking about the past. Fast forward two minutes. Two good friend, rolling around on the floor, making out like wild lions. He suddenly stopped, looked at me and said
"I love you, I still love you, I never stopped loving you". Could this be happening? Could this be real? I had wanted to hear those words for so long. He added, "but I can't be with you, it is too much". What the fuck? You love me, but you can't be with me? I was confused. Apparently, so was he. But, I waited, and six months later, the confusion lifted and we got back together.
During our second go 'round, things were different. Den was more open with his feelings and more considerate of me. He was truly my best friend this time. We had amazing sparks. My skin twitched with excitement every time he kissed me. I would get butterflies when I knew I was going to see him. He'd bring me flowers and take me out for dinner. And the sex was amazing - the fucking was animalistic and I felt more connected than I had to anyone when we made soft, passionate love. But many things hadn't change. He was still frightened of "the end" of relationships. He wanted his freedom and thought that was imposed on by living with someone, or by marriage. Six months into our rekindled romance, he made the decision to move to Vancouver without even talking to me about it. Two months later, he made the decision to stay in Vancouver indefinitely without even discussing it with me.
I needed him, I wanted him so badly in my life. Did it matter that he didn't consult me? Yes, it hurt, but that was just Den. So I made sacrifices, the ferries rides to see him, the monthly telephone bills and the evenings out with my friends solo as my boyfriend lived across a body of water. Eventually, I decided to move there - leave everything behind me in Victoria, my job, my friends, my family, to live on my own as he was too scared to live with someone, to take the relationship to that next level. I was willing to do that, or so I thought. It was worth it to me. It was worth it to make him happy.
The move never happened. I couldn't find a job. And honestly, I think part of me just couldn't give up that much of my life for him, for nothing. No promise of a future together, no plans of things to come. The day I knew it was all over between Dennis and I - we were talking on the phone and I jokingly suggested he get his ass to the 9 pm ferry (it was only 6:30 pm) to come and spend the night with me. Yeah it would have been crazy, yeah it would have cost some money, but it would have been nice. And I thought he might do it. When he called at 9:30 pm, I really thought he was on the boat. But he wasn't. The notion was too crazy for him. "What would be the point, just to sleep?". There didn't need to be a point. He should have just done it. I knew it was over then.
And so, it ended. I couldn't stand to be angry with him anymore. Every phone call ended with resentment. Every weekend together ended with tears. Did I want to leave him? No. Could I have stayed? No. I guess I just really wanted him to fight for me. Tell me he would change. To get on that damn ferry! To actually give up something for me. I was so willing to give up so much for him, why couldn't he do something for me? And during our last visit, the let's give back our stuff visit, as I was before him, on my knees, barely able to talk through the tear, begging him to fight for me, I knew he couldn't. No, not that he couldn't, he wouldn't. He didn't love me that much. I was the more loving one. Or was I? I always wondered what stopped me from moving to Vancouver. Why I couldn't give a bit more?
And even though it ended a year and a half ago, I know you guys don't want to hear this, I still think of him everyday. I still miss him. I don't pine to be back with him, but I do miss the sparks, the passion, the friendship. It drives me crazy that he has a new girlfriend that lives with him. Why wasn't I good enough to live with? Maybe the roles are different with them, maybe he has become the more loving one with her. And rationally, I can tell myself it was for the best and I would never be happy with him, I still hope for a knock on my door one day. A knock that says "I was wrong". Will it happen, of course not. And I know it sounds cliche, but I really wouldn't change anything with Den for the world. Okay, well maybe I would change a few things. My version would end with us riding off together into the sunset on a horse. But, honestly, I am afraid of horses, so that would never happen. The other thing I would change, I would get back my "sports cuffs". He gave them to me as a present and then kept them! Those things are expensive! And, then don't leave bruises like real handcuffs do!
So, it brings me back to my dilemma....can I settle for being the princess or can I only find true passion when I am the pee-on? I guess time will tell. With Den, did I get tired of being the pee-on? Can a relationship so unequal survive? Maybe I'll be able to beat the odds and find both, the passion coupled with the equality. A princess can dream, can't she?
With a passion for us we could not return
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me."
- WH Auden
My last posting seemed to spark some thoughts from some of my closest friends, and some new friends, about the metrosexual, the laws of attraction and our roles in relationships. Whether it is better to be absolutely adored, the princess syndrome, or love a little bit, or a whole heck of a lot more, as WH Auden so aptly put. Today, I was lucky enough to be directed to a great blog written by Lucky Spinster (it is fecking great - be sure to check it out)who added her thoughts on the subject and really started me thinking about which relationship role I want to take, the princess or the pee-on?
I don't have vast relationship repertoire, but I have had a few kicks at the can. Out of all of them, I have really only been in love once - I can feel my heart in my throat, throw myself in front of a moving bus, zsa-zsa zsu kinda love. His name was Dennis and I met him one summer when we both worked together at the same currency exchange. It took us 4 months before either of us got up the nerve to ask the other out on a date. We became each other's "first" and spent 9 months with each other. Dennis ended it because "he was afraid and things got too serious". I was hurt. But we decided to remain friends.
Fast forward two years later. Two friends, sitting on a balcony, drinking red wine, talking about the past. Fast forward two minutes. Two good friend, rolling around on the floor, making out like wild lions. He suddenly stopped, looked at me and said
"I love you, I still love you, I never stopped loving you". Could this be happening? Could this be real? I had wanted to hear those words for so long. He added, "but I can't be with you, it is too much". What the fuck? You love me, but you can't be with me? I was confused. Apparently, so was he. But, I waited, and six months later, the confusion lifted and we got back together.
During our second go 'round, things were different. Den was more open with his feelings and more considerate of me. He was truly my best friend this time. We had amazing sparks. My skin twitched with excitement every time he kissed me. I would get butterflies when I knew I was going to see him. He'd bring me flowers and take me out for dinner. And the sex was amazing - the fucking was animalistic and I felt more connected than I had to anyone when we made soft, passionate love. But many things hadn't change. He was still frightened of "the end" of relationships. He wanted his freedom and thought that was imposed on by living with someone, or by marriage. Six months into our rekindled romance, he made the decision to move to Vancouver without even talking to me about it. Two months later, he made the decision to stay in Vancouver indefinitely without even discussing it with me.
I needed him, I wanted him so badly in my life. Did it matter that he didn't consult me? Yes, it hurt, but that was just Den. So I made sacrifices, the ferries rides to see him, the monthly telephone bills and the evenings out with my friends solo as my boyfriend lived across a body of water. Eventually, I decided to move there - leave everything behind me in Victoria, my job, my friends, my family, to live on my own as he was too scared to live with someone, to take the relationship to that next level. I was willing to do that, or so I thought. It was worth it to me. It was worth it to make him happy.
The move never happened. I couldn't find a job. And honestly, I think part of me just couldn't give up that much of my life for him, for nothing. No promise of a future together, no plans of things to come. The day I knew it was all over between Dennis and I - we were talking on the phone and I jokingly suggested he get his ass to the 9 pm ferry (it was only 6:30 pm) to come and spend the night with me. Yeah it would have been crazy, yeah it would have cost some money, but it would have been nice. And I thought he might do it. When he called at 9:30 pm, I really thought he was on the boat. But he wasn't. The notion was too crazy for him. "What would be the point, just to sleep?". There didn't need to be a point. He should have just done it. I knew it was over then.
And so, it ended. I couldn't stand to be angry with him anymore. Every phone call ended with resentment. Every weekend together ended with tears. Did I want to leave him? No. Could I have stayed? No. I guess I just really wanted him to fight for me. Tell me he would change. To get on that damn ferry! To actually give up something for me. I was so willing to give up so much for him, why couldn't he do something for me? And during our last visit, the let's give back our stuff visit, as I was before him, on my knees, barely able to talk through the tear, begging him to fight for me, I knew he couldn't. No, not that he couldn't, he wouldn't. He didn't love me that much. I was the more loving one. Or was I? I always wondered what stopped me from moving to Vancouver. Why I couldn't give a bit more?
And even though it ended a year and a half ago, I know you guys don't want to hear this, I still think of him everyday. I still miss him. I don't pine to be back with him, but I do miss the sparks, the passion, the friendship. It drives me crazy that he has a new girlfriend that lives with him. Why wasn't I good enough to live with? Maybe the roles are different with them, maybe he has become the more loving one with her. And rationally, I can tell myself it was for the best and I would never be happy with him, I still hope for a knock on my door one day. A knock that says "I was wrong". Will it happen, of course not. And I know it sounds cliche, but I really wouldn't change anything with Den for the world. Okay, well maybe I would change a few things. My version would end with us riding off together into the sunset on a horse. But, honestly, I am afraid of horses, so that would never happen. The other thing I would change, I would get back my "sports cuffs". He gave them to me as a present and then kept them! Those things are expensive! And, then don't leave bruises like real handcuffs do!
So, it brings me back to my dilemma....can I settle for being the princess or can I only find true passion when I am the pee-on? I guess time will tell. With Den, did I get tired of being the pee-on? Can a relationship so unequal survive? Maybe I'll be able to beat the odds and find both, the passion coupled with the equality. A princess can dream, can't she?
posted by Cascadia at 10:10 PM
5 Comments:
Better to have loved and lost? No way, man. I completely disagree. Loving someone and losing them is the worst kind of torture. The key is to find a way to turn that love into hatred. I hate to promote hatred in any form, but I find it is a wonderful method of allowing yourself to "move on". So go on, hate him. It will make it easier. Hate is not so different from love, you know.
Molly.
Hating someone takes way more energy than love ever does... way too much energy involved in hating someone... I'm all about indifference... There's no point in holding in anger...
Actually I am quite surprised at Molly's comment... I was always told (by her) that things happen for a reason, and that we are meant to learn something from everything that happens in ur lives. Cass learned from Denn that she was capable of having those kinds of feelings for someone. He wasn't able to return them... sadly... but now she knows not to settle for anything less... ie, SHB. I don't think she should hate him for that.
That's just my two cents... for what it's worth.
I am not sure I could ever hate him. Would it make it easier, probably. But I don't want it to be easier. I may have sounded a bit bitter in the posting and a bit crazy in regards to still thinking about him, but believe me, I have learned my lesson. I have changed too much to ever go back to that point with him. He was actually the catalyst that lead me to this long, long, long, long road to self actualization and eesteem building. I could never hate him for that - he actually helped me. If I would have stayed, I would never have grown. Can you tell it is Mental Health Monday? It is amazing what an hour on a therepists couch and an hour being poked full of holes does for one's mind!
About D's reaction to you asking him to take the ferry:
There's a novel called the Blood of Others where a woman asks her Marxist boyfriend to steal her a bicycle. He says No, that would be wrong. She says I thought you believed property was theft? It is, he says, but there are some things that just aren't done. And she says, When you're in love, you do the things that just aren't done.
Hi Lou!
I like that - when you are in love you do things that just aren't done - I have been there! It may seem stupid, it may be unrational, but you feel compelled to do them. Not that I have ever stolen anything....
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