The world told me a big fat lie. The world told me that love is both ways... love is mutual.
Like I said, the world lied.
Love is a one-way street. Just like gift-giving, love in its most genuine form is about giving... giving unconditionally... giving without expecting anything in return… giving with no expectations. Kinda the same as the kind most mothers give to their child.
Love is when your heart is so big, you want to share the care and happiness with someone else.
Love is when you are so content with your life, you can shower the excess gratitude on someone else.
The problem with a lot of people these days is their love is given with expectations. I love you (therefore I expect you to love me back); or I love you therefore you must do this…
As Mark so wisely put it, to love and expect to be loved back, that is not love, that is barter.
This was the kind of love I had for Daniel, which I why I can forgive him so easily. Because other than money, he really didn’t owe me much. The love I gave him, I never expected him to love me back. I simply enjoy loving him.
I did. To love someone genuinely (free of any tinge of barter intentions) is a very enjoyable act. Really.
I say , “It’s better to love, than to be loved”, and not the other way round.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Our Obsession with Definitions
In school, we spent half our time learning the definition of terms and jargons. We must have transferred this adopted addiction into life. I don’t understand why we are so obsessed to seek clear definitions and boundaries about the state of things.
S and I have been seeing each other for the last 4 months. Sex is great. Talk is even greater. He is so brilliant and witty, so much fun to be with. He almost is always available when I need him, and he certainly wants to spend time with me too. In other words, a truly great companion.
Everyone, from girlfriends to good friends to mom to bro, has been pestering me about the status of our relationship and the direction of it (i.e. is he just a fuck friend, casual friend, long-term boyfriend, steady boyfriend? …or whatever else you could call them these days)
They just don’t get it when I tell them I have no definition nor direction. And I don’ seek it. I am truly enjoying what I have with him now. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. We may still be intrigue with each other; we may still enjoy each other’s company; he may get bored of me; I may find someone else… I don’t know.
Why can’t we live day by day, enjoying the present. Come what may, do what you heart feels and mind thinks? Spontaneity is so precious and pure, it invokes only the truest of reactions and feelings.
Why must we have a clear path of everything? When we know that despite all definitions, hopes and plans, non of them provide any real sense of certainty, not even marriage. Those are all fakes sense of security, a commercial romance that we buy into.
I don’t want to put him in any box. I don’t care if there is a future or not. I don’t know how to define him except that he is a wonderful being and I enjoy his company. Whatever that may happen tomorrow, all I know is I will always own those wonderful moments and cherished memories of truly happy times. And that’s all that matters.
S and I have been seeing each other for the last 4 months. Sex is great. Talk is even greater. He is so brilliant and witty, so much fun to be with. He almost is always available when I need him, and he certainly wants to spend time with me too. In other words, a truly great companion.
Everyone, from girlfriends to good friends to mom to bro, has been pestering me about the status of our relationship and the direction of it (i.e. is he just a fuck friend, casual friend, long-term boyfriend, steady boyfriend? …or whatever else you could call them these days)
They just don’t get it when I tell them I have no definition nor direction. And I don’ seek it. I am truly enjoying what I have with him now. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. We may still be intrigue with each other; we may still enjoy each other’s company; he may get bored of me; I may find someone else… I don’t know.
Why can’t we live day by day, enjoying the present. Come what may, do what you heart feels and mind thinks? Spontaneity is so precious and pure, it invokes only the truest of reactions and feelings.
Why must we have a clear path of everything? When we know that despite all definitions, hopes and plans, non of them provide any real sense of certainty, not even marriage. Those are all fakes sense of security, a commercial romance that we buy into.
I don’t want to put him in any box. I don’t care if there is a future or not. I don’t know how to define him except that he is a wonderful being and I enjoy his company. Whatever that may happen tomorrow, all I know is I will always own those wonderful moments and cherished memories of truly happy times. And that’s all that matters.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Pheremones Working Overtime
I was at the bookstore last Sunday, quietly scanning through the shelves in a corner, minding my own business.
Suddenly, this young man (like boy in his 20s-young) came up to me and asked if I was Jane. I said no, I was no Jane. God, what a cliché. He then sweetly chat me up, asked for my number and asked if we could have dinner. I gave him my number and welcomed the invitation.
Wow, it was a swell! Not because the guy was a hunk. Even, you could tell he was quite inexperienced. But hey, it's not everyday you get pick up by some sweet young thing. Such occurences are rare moments, but sure swells you up from the inside. Makes you feel beautiful, confident and damn bloody good.
I guess being picked up in a bookstore is very different from being picked up in a bar. In a bar, you are oozing sex. You go dressed the part, dance the part and drink the part. But in a bookstore, in my most dressed down weekend outfit, straight out of the gym. It was absolute flattery. Now I know how Demi Moore feels.
Freaky Déjà Vu
But here’s the freaky part. As I was recounting the incident with pride to my girlfriends, I started describing how this young gentlemen looked like. To my horror, I realized he was a Daniel déjàvu. Same height, same colour, same facial texture, stays in the same area and going to move to Shanghai to work. Oh dear Lord, please stop playing games on me.
Suddenly, this young man (like boy in his 20s-young) came up to me and asked if I was Jane. I said no, I was no Jane. God, what a cliché. He then sweetly chat me up, asked for my number and asked if we could have dinner. I gave him my number and welcomed the invitation.
Wow, it was a swell! Not because the guy was a hunk. Even, you could tell he was quite inexperienced. But hey, it's not everyday you get pick up by some sweet young thing. Such occurences are rare moments, but sure swells you up from the inside. Makes you feel beautiful, confident and damn bloody good.
I guess being picked up in a bookstore is very different from being picked up in a bar. In a bar, you are oozing sex. You go dressed the part, dance the part and drink the part. But in a bookstore, in my most dressed down weekend outfit, straight out of the gym. It was absolute flattery. Now I know how Demi Moore feels.
Freaky Déjà Vu
But here’s the freaky part. As I was recounting the incident with pride to my girlfriends, I started describing how this young gentlemen looked like. To my horror, I realized he was a Daniel déjàvu. Same height, same colour, same facial texture, stays in the same area and going to move to Shanghai to work. Oh dear Lord, please stop playing games on me.
Age Discrimination
I had a discussion with a 40-something man about my 30-something girlfriend’s fear of turning 40. I was appalled to find that he consciously discriminates against women in their 40s. No wonder my dear friend is fearful of turning 40.
I grilled my poor 40-something man with guilt. But then again, don’t we all practice age discrimination?
I guess is more ways than we are aware of, we do. I know I have been filtering out young boys from my email correspondence. I don’t think any young “ciku” could possibly have the maturity to stimulate me intellectually.
And also men over 50. As much as I pep talk myself to overcome the prejudices and stereotypes, one cannot deny that men over 50 do have physical limitations when it comes to matters in the bedroom.
Gee, this is bad. I am bad.
I grilled my poor 40-something man with guilt. But then again, don’t we all practice age discrimination?
I guess is more ways than we are aware of, we do. I know I have been filtering out young boys from my email correspondence. I don’t think any young “ciku” could possibly have the maturity to stimulate me intellectually.
And also men over 50. As much as I pep talk myself to overcome the prejudices and stereotypes, one cannot deny that men over 50 do have physical limitations when it comes to matters in the bedroom.
Gee, this is bad. I am bad.
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