We love convenience.
So much so that I truly believe we reject all that is not.
Including, if not especially, love.
Knowing this, it would seem I've somewhat unintentionally found myself in the midst of a relationship experiment, centered around that very debacle.
Living and loving with a deadline:
Is it a waste? A practice drill? A learning experience?
Or shall it forever taint my soul and my ability to love?!
I'll let you decide.
As long as you'll allow me to elaborate.
*ahem*
I met a boy as I was kite-flying last spring.
My roommate at the time, who was a friend of his friend, testified that the boy was married.
"Aw, shucks," I thought.
And that was that.
Until, after several more run-ins, the boy clarified:
"Me?! MARRIED?!?!"
Which was followed by a roar of laughter that I hadn't expected...
But was most certainly relieved and intrigued by.
Since then, we've been dating.
It's been a few months and we have approximately one more to go until he goes to law school and I go god-knows-where to do god-knows-what. (Elsewhere is my only real criteria.)
The interesting aspect here is the following:
Both of us are privy to the knowledge that we end when our time runs out.
There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
We have known from very near the beginning, in fact, that our relationship is not one that will lead to a lifetime of love, marriage, or baby carriages.
Typically, I'd call that a waste of time, effort, and emotion...and would run away.
Far, far away.
In a big, big hurry.
(Actually, I'd likely respond that way whether there was a future or not. Typically.)
Not this time.
To be absurdly-- if not embarrassingly-- honest, this is the longest I've been able to even tolerate a potential love interest since high school. (Harsh. But true.) I think the fact that I have been so pro-dating with this boy has everything to do with the deadline and the fact that both of us understand what happens beyond it. (It also probably has at least a bit to do with the fact that he is a pretty nifty guy... (I suppose.))
For the first time in Relationship Land, I am not concerned with breaking his heart or getting mine broken. Talk about a relief. In truth, its a genuine interest in being in the company of one another that keeps us going. Our moments are silly, safe, and endearing. But, perhaps most importantly, they protect us from what seems to be many people's biggest fear in life:
Being alone.
I've scrawled it across journals for years now, so I might as well add it to this one:
It seems it's all just a matter of loneliness.
Ugh.
Such a thought seems awfully depressing to a romantic like myself.
To love in order to fulfill a need for companionship.
To love because life is better lived in communion.
All this, rather than simply loving for the sake of love.
To love because there is no other option.
Yet, here I sit, far from depressed.
Instead, I have a sense of satisfaction.
Where many would say I've compromised myself for convenience and robbed love of its very core, I say... so be it. I needed this.
I have, essentially, been practicing the art of loving another person without the dangers that come with vulnerability, expectation, and...well, love. While that does give off a tint of insincerity and dangles on the edge of cowardice, it also has healed many mortal wounds that had merely been bandaged up and forgotten about previously.
It has also, as of late, helped me discover that I'm ready to move beyond this comfort zone.
Life and love are not meant to be safe.
One should not be able to avoid the dull heartache that comes from conflict in a relationship.
When we do, we are robbing love of its core.
We are compromising our potential for the sake of convenience.
Plus, with this type of relationship arrangement comes a different kind of dull ache:
One that grows from the lingering of a barely recognizable form of mutual rejection.
The kind where lovers go through the motions in order to create their outwardly flawless moments and shiny memories, yet inwardly know those moments will never be fully realized...
because they are not fully real.
There's a hollowness that exists when one takes the heart out of the matter and turn it all into a practice run. So, in the end, is it a waste of time? A learning experience? A debilitating mistake?
It's different for all of us, I'd wager.
...I've decided to call it "progress".
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