The pursuit of love is pretty much similar to going to clubs.
Sometimes you have a certain expectation before hitting the club, other times you just head straight to it without anticipating anything; you just go with the flow, as they say. Some might get lucky – they might get all the perks of both good music and good company in the club while the rest might not. They’ll grow bored and chose to call it a night way earlier than the last round of tune plays. Some might see the ones they would love to dance with but too afraid of making a move and waiting for the signal from the other end to do so (which often doesn’t come) but others just jump right into it, extending their hand for a congenial ‘Hello’ and let the night take its turn.
If you chose to see the many facets of people searching for love, there it is - lying right in front of you on the dancefloor. From a quick glance, it is vibrant, full of life, jumping up and down, full of smiling faces. But take a second look – there are the bored ones in the corner, the trying-so-hard ones which still get no attention, the ones being there just for the sake of another company but left ignored by the latter and the posers who actually have so many insecurities and other kinds of people.
But when we have that perfect one in front of us, then comes the next big question mark – why do we like the one that we like? Crushes come and go as passing interests but real love (perhaps?) stays forever like a bad tattoo. Someone asked me “Why do you like me?” and I don’t have the answer to respond to that and still don’t. If liking/loving someone can be measured or have a distinct index like how MAMPU measures KPI or how restaurants are graded according to Michelin stars, I would be the first one to come out with my own report with full analysis.
Sadly they don’t. So there I was hanging at loss for words when he asked me about it.
I wished I could have tell him how I enjoyed being with him, impressed by his intelligence (I’m turned on by brainy people – Paris Hilton included, she’s smart alright. I’m dead serious), marveled at his preppy clothes, soothed by his puppy eyes, delighted by his company and just glad to be with him in between the said stuff. Sounds cheesy but that’s just how I like him so get over it alright.
People always have doubts about relationships. They say it won’t last. The distance won’t make the heart grow fonder. No two people could remain monogamous. The sparkle will fade within a year; two years top. If one gets fatter, uglier than it’s time for the other one to move on. Opposites do not attract. And so many other skeptical stuff.
I have no idea about most people so I can’t speak on their behalf. But as for me, I’ve proven most of the ill-sayings above wrong. Whole-heartedly I believe if you are into someone, you should jump into it, seize the opportunity, grab the moment and see how it goes. The last time I tried it lasted for six years and ended just because of growing commitments, yet the sparkle was still there at that very last dot. Still, it’s worth the try and was amazing while it lasted.
Wouldn’t it be easier if pursuing for love is as black-and-white as job-hunting? You search for any opening/vacancy, submit your resume complete with impressive co-curriculum vitae stating how good you were as a partner in the past (and why it didn’t work out) and wait for the feedback. You would be notified if you don’t succeed, even more if you actually do. Besides, you could always call and ask directly the status of your application without having to play with flirting games, signals, waiting for calls and other tiring acts.
But that’s the beauty of relationship anyway. It makes all the pain, sweat and sleepless nights worth it – only when it actually worked out fine. If not, back to square one.
Someone told me I could make a Facebook status by this issue but I told him I could turn it into a blog entry instead. Chico, I’ve made it as an entry today.