It’s been a while since I’ve written anything. Too much life, too little time, so I’ve been playing catch up. Trying to stay efficient at work. Trying to get back in the groove of school. Trying to make sure all my bills are paid. Trying to reconcile the possibility of the relationship. And all while trying to take care of myself. Guess which ball I dropped? Yeah. The slipperiest one. The one so many of us tend to fumble with time and again. I lost sight of myself. The first thing that usually goes is my self-expression so I haven’t been communicating well at all.
I was tagged in a challenge by Renegade Expressions quite a while ago – long enough ago that I remember the gist of the challenge but not the details. I had been intrigued by it because it involved music; choosing a song and then writing about what it means to you was the essence of it. I love music, and a number of songs came to mind at the time but I never got around to doing any of the writing. Most of my favourite songs have to do with love and relationships and in my current state I’ve been particularly moved when I hear or think about any of them these days. One that’s been playing in my mind recently is Regina Belle’s ‘Dream In Colour’. The line that’s always grabbed me in that song is ‘I want a love, not just a lover…’. It’s not a new song, but that line resonates with me so much more now that it ever did. Like so many songs we hear when we are younger, I enjoyed the words, the rhythm, but it’s only been in the last 5 years or so that I’ve been able to truly understand what she’s saying.
I’ve been woefully unimpressed with most of the males I’ve interacted with for the last little while. The utter inanity of the conversations they try to have. The complete shallowness of the personalities. The total dearth of potential. The unbelievable lack of any damn thing to offer except dick… I’ve had more propositions than I can count, but an offer of a date…? Not so much. Suggestive comments, overt statements, all to do with sex. But absolutely no expression of desire or intent to explore anything outside of fucking. Now, don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with fucking. But it would be nice to at least know a person’s full name, share a meal with them, have some kind of clue as to who they are, before the clothes come off. When did we get to the point where we had so little to offer? I get the impression from my male friends that the women with whom they interact are similar in intent.
Most people seem to be looking for a lover. What then do I do, if I’m looking for love…? What do I do if I meet that love under less than ideal circumstances? What do I do when I look into the actuality of what I seek but have to sit (im)patiently by and wait some more? What do I do when I look around at the available alternatives and see nothing but inanity and banality? What do I do during this period of delay, this in between…?
What I do is I love myself… I become my best friend. I strive to be my initial source of strength. I try to be my own company and counsel. I take care of me. There is nothing wrong with being your own first love. Or your own new love. Or even your own only love. Get to know yourself a little better. Find a new hobby or expand an existing one. Cultivate your passions. Develop and improve your self. Become stronger, happier. Increase your own personal value. Ultimately, what you seek must first be found within you. If you can’t find it there, it’s unlikely that you’ll find it anywhere else. So, if what you’re trying to do is pass the time with a lover, by all means, go forth, you likely won’t have to look very hard to find it. If what you’re seeking is love, the journey, though it be to your own self first, is substantially longer, but infinitely more fulfilling.