Musing

I know this is usually a pretty silly blog, but at the moment I feel like talking a bit more than usual. Just glad I got that ugg rant off my chest yesterday :) So warning, this post has absolutely nothing to do with clothes, fashion, art, music ect. Well, there is some Shakespeare thrown in so that's the art for today.

Tonight I just finished talking to Blondie on the phone, and then helped my room mate and her boyfriend pack up to leave for the weekend, and then listened to the horror show that is my room mate's friend's dating life. And it got me thinking about a few things.

I've always heard that love is supposed to be a knock you out, butterflies in the stomach, so intense you can't breathe feeling. I've had that feeling a few times, and each time it had a very fast, very ugly ending. I've now had the un-covetable opportunity to watch several of my friends go through the exact same kind of relationships, ones that start off in a burst of passion and then just as quickly die out. Usually not quietly or well.

"These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey

Is loathsome in his own deliciousness

And in the taste confounds the appetite:"

Friar Lawrence, Act II scene VI, Romeo and Juliet

I know, perhaps a bit melodramatic :), but I think the Friar has the right idea, even a good two hundred years ago. The part that's lately started to strike me is the last part of this speech:

"Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow."

Because at the moment I'm in a relationship that gives me anything but butterflies. There is no burning passion, not even a flickering passion. We didn't exactly start off with a bang, if anything it was more of an osmosis. It just kind of... happened. And now I'm dating a guy that although probably doesn't fit at all our culture's conception of what love should be, I absolutely adore him and he's easily one of my best friends. I feel safe, secure, and loved.

Yet, lately (mainly because of other people's questions) I'm starting to think about whether what we have is a "better" form of love, or what it "should" be. If a butterflies in the stomach love is better than a slow moving glacier love.

Either way I'm sticking with Blondie for the foreseeable future, because at the moment I'm taking a pass on the whole passion thing. I prefer someone that thinks it's cute that I type with my feet up on the desk, that sneaks snickers bars into my work because he knows how much I love them, and that will always give me his coat and a big hug if its cold outside.

It's not exactly glamorous but it's what I like.

But anyway, I was just thinking about that tonight and I figured I'd share my musings on the subject. Of course you can agree or disagree as you like, this is all just my own opinion.

photos by le love