Currently Listening To: If You Had My Love (Jennifer Lopez, before she became J-Lo) // No Scrubs (TLC)
Currently Pondering: *Head nod* Those ladies had it right. And awesome outfits. IS THAT WELSH ON MY SPOTIFY??
Another long one folks! And a bit odd. I'm having an odd week, and I'm not quite sure what to think of it myself. But we have Neruda, and his poetry is awesome, so there's a plus at the very least.
Strange things are happening in the world lately...there's either something in the air or water, or perhaps there's a full moon (there isn't. And even if there was apparently lunar madness is a myth) but either way, something curious is happening. Odd things are happening, people are acting odd- even I'm feeling a little nuts. I'm getting really antsy, feeling a little out of place everywhere I go, I'm over-analysing nearly EVERYTHING that's being said to me, and I'm pretty sure my bitchier/more wreckless alter ego is trying to bust her way through. She typically only comes out when I'm a combination of drunk and pissed off, and leads me down the path of vodka shots (I frickin' hate vodka shots), drunken texting and lewd behaviour. Only now she's not so much drunk, just, pissy and looking for someone to pick on. The bitch.
Anyway, "stuff" has triggered me to go for a walk down memory lane, taking a left-turn onto "Past-Relationships Drive" and here I am sitting at the doorstep of the "International House of Fuck-Ups". I'm thinking: men are really screwy. I attract weird things and events. I'm not trying to say my entire love-life and persons therein have been terrible, but there are definitely some points I'd rather forget, or time-travel back to and undo. What is it they say? It only takes one negative thing to cancel out FOUR positive things? That's horrible. Yuck.
In my weekly stumblings however, I found this little gem:
"The best part of being in love is when you just love a person, and be happy about it. Even if that person can never be yours, even if you know it can't last forever. That's the true essence of love. It's not about winning someone, it's not about owning a relationship. It's just about being happy because you know you've loved someone. It's about being happy because you know you've loved someone."
-Source: Allenstar
This is probably the most succinct way of summing up my thoughts during a break-up. And I didn't even come up with it. Rats. Asides from thinking "oh you complete knob. You are such a knob" during a break-up, I do honestly try to think of all the things I've learned/learned never to do again in future relationships (so far the list is pretty long). I think the most resilient teaching was "how to put your defences up and keep them there", a message hammered home by seeing women in my family being messed around and then personal experience from relationships C and E. Maybe a little bit of G too. But it was somewhere between D and G that I figured there's no point in letting the horrible memories corrupt all the good ones. And sometimes it's ok to put your guard down. Now I think I've gotten the hang of looking at the bad, leaving it there, and going on to enjoy the good memories as if I'm living them all over again. C'mon, good first dates are still good first dates, and a good first kiss is still a good first kiss.
Let's look at the beautiful words of Pablo Neruda now, the man knows how to write a good heartache:
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, 'The night is starry and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
Write, for example, 'The night is starry and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
It's a killer to read if you're even the slightest bit not happy with some sort of relationship. Or breaking up with someone. Sorry for any anguish caused, I really should've put a foreword in there or something.
As I did with Wuthering Heights, I shall do here, I'm going to pick up on the really minute undertones, and proceed to love and adore them.
"Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too." This makes me think "500 Days of Summer". Haven't seen it? Sort that out. It makes me think about the times when you look at the other person and just begin to wonder "I'm not so sure anymore.." Either you've begun to notice the flaws you didn't before or you're feeling the tremors of impending doom. *Spoiler Alert* In the movie, you re-watch scenes which the boy saw as normal, enjoyable dates, but it's only when you get the slightest hint that the girl is getting "cold feet" and the same scenes look so different. It's so sad, but I think I can slightly sympathise with "No, this doesn't feel right, I see trouble on the horizon" and the best thing to do is to break than continue proverbially flogging the dead donkey. I was called a bitch (thanks, Alex) when I said I was happy the two of them ended up doing different things at the end of the movie. I'm sorry, but as lovely and Hollywood-friendly as it would've been, I appreciate just ONE love story where everything doesn't have to end up as planned- but is even better. My mother has always told me the problem with my exes is not the issues of "maturity" or "chronic dick-headedness" but its that we couldn't *handle* each other. Her theory is that you don't just move around each other, but you move each other. Like a Tango. Or a stream, flowing around and over big rocks, but picking up shells and sand. How calming, mother. She maintains that I should only marry a Chinese zodiac that can "tame a snake". Dig that innuendo. For clarity, I was born in the year of the snake and Mum's really supersticious. And she thinks I can be a bit too "willful" (read: domineering cow) Agreed. Anyway, that's what I think was the problem with the above relationship. The two obviously got on, but after the honeymoon period, she must have felt like the chemistry was replaced with convenience, and with no "good reason" like a fight or infidelity to break-up over, the relationship was just kind of plodding on. Then she tells him she wanted to shoot him in the head. Hahaha.
"Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too." This makes me think "500 Days of Summer". Haven't seen it? Sort that out. It makes me think about the times when you look at the other person and just begin to wonder "I'm not so sure anymore.." Either you've begun to notice the flaws you didn't before or you're feeling the tremors of impending doom. *Spoiler Alert* In the movie, you re-watch scenes which the boy saw as normal, enjoyable dates, but it's only when you get the slightest hint that the girl is getting "cold feet" and the same scenes look so different. It's so sad, but I think I can slightly sympathise with "No, this doesn't feel right, I see trouble on the horizon" and the best thing to do is to break than continue proverbially flogging the dead donkey. I was called a bitch (thanks, Alex) when I said I was happy the two of them ended up doing different things at the end of the movie. I'm sorry, but as lovely and Hollywood-friendly as it would've been, I appreciate just ONE love story where everything doesn't have to end up as planned- but is even better. My mother has always told me the problem with my exes is not the issues of "maturity" or "chronic dick-headedness" but its that we couldn't *handle* each other. Her theory is that you don't just move around each other, but you move each other. Like a Tango. Or a stream, flowing around and over big rocks, but picking up shells and sand. How calming, mother. She maintains that I should only marry a Chinese zodiac that can "tame a snake". Dig that innuendo. For clarity, I was born in the year of the snake and Mum's really supersticious. And she thinks I can be a bit too "willful" (read: domineering cow) Agreed. Anyway, that's what I think was the problem with the above relationship. The two obviously got on, but after the honeymoon period, she must have felt like the chemistry was replaced with convenience, and with no "good reason" like a fight or infidelity to break-up over, the relationship was just kind of plodding on. Then she tells him she wanted to shoot him in the head. Hahaha.
"Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes." My biggest relationship vice? I'm hugely jealous/ protective. But getting better at it, I've figured out how to just let things go, and now laugh when I would've sulked, pouted and gotten all irate. I have more fun when I'm not wasting time being annoyed and not changing anything. Sounds like this woman had really beautiful eyes though doesn't it? He keeps mentioning them...
I know that this poem conveys a huge sense of him having a really tough time getting over a past love, but I do see just the tiniest glimmer of hope in the last lines: "...my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her./ Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer / and these the last verses that I write for her."
Almost sounds like he's saying he's ready to just leave things alone now, leaving them in this poem, and moving on from it. Closure. I like it. But then you might read something completely differently from all that. I'll just err on the side of optimism.
Almost sounds like he's saying he's ready to just leave things alone now, leaving them in this poem, and moving on from it. Closure. I like it. But then you might read something completely differently from all that. I'll just err on the side of optimism.
Damn I love Neruda.
So there you have it. This is what happens when the planets align just right, and I start thinking "Girls are from Venus, men are from...where the hell are you coming from!?"
I'll be back to normal next week. I might even have a sparkly new phone to show off! Happy face.
 |
| For anyone feeling cynical about love, be assured you could buy it with change from a fiver |
 |
| Poor tumour-bear! I still don't have the heart to eat him, he looks sad enough without knowing the end is nigh.. |
No comments:
Post a Comment