Well, dear bloggettes- it seems there has been another explosion in Loveland. Rawboy and I have been debating the topic of LOVE for several days now, and Rawboy's the winner. Because if he wasn't, well then, Rawboy would be wrong. And he's never wrong...
Early in our friendship/relationship/courtship/thingy, Rawboy expressed to me that he wanted a serious relationship with TWO women, me being one of them, and wanted to know how I felt about it. If any of you know anything about me at all, then you can assume my response: You're a fucking idiot and get out of my life. But after reading book after book about the "true" meaning of life and all of it's secrets, Rawboy has come to the conclusion that multiple partners who share each other on a regular basis is a natural, common occurence in this world. I would expect this kind of reasoning from an inexperienced, horny, young man. Or from an older man who mistakes wisdom for lack of respect towards women.
Hmmmmm... lack of respect...I see a pattern here.
After the "absolutely not- you're a fucking idiot" rebuttle to this obsurd request, Rawboy temporarily gave up on the notion and things went back to normal- until the explosion the other day. After several days of intimacy, Rawboy expresses his love for me like so: "I love you like a sister." Yes bloggers, sit back, and take it all in. I know I didn't. I didn't need the time.
Is it just me?? Am I being unfair?? Should his words have not been a direct stab in the heart?? Well, it was- a stab in the heart, that is. A deep, twisting stab. So the debate begins- What is love? Is there one, true definition? Aren't there many degrees of love, and if so, what are they? Someone tell us, please! This definition of "love" has torn us apart and we may not get passed it. Not without one of us surrendering, anyway.
Without typing a novel on the intricasies of love and all it entails, I will tell you this- I have experienced many relationships in my day. Enough to know when love exists- when a deep, meaningful love exists, and the difference between those kinds of love and "a love you have for your sister." Maybe Rawboy feels less guilty screwing three women at one time when the love he feels does not exceed the love he has for his sister. Or maybe he just wants to screw his sister. Who knows.
But the love I have for Rawboy is something very intimate, much more involved than a brotherly love. And I'm not mad because I love him "more." I'm mad because he's an idiot. I'm mad because he doesn't have a clue. I'm mad because he says he knows what love is and how it should be expressed, when he's never felt it before. He's never been hurt by it before. His heart has never been ripped out of his tiny chest, for love, before. And I'm mad because his new, favorite book is one in which Osho, the author, describes wives and children as "restricting chains", and that "love" should be given out like orange chicken samples at a food court, to as many people(women) as possible during one's(man's) life.
I, on the other hand, like the majority of the population- and call me old fashioned-prefer the intimacy of one partner, the journey of life and love, with that partner, my rock, my inspiration, my peace, my other half. Maybe I was hoping that I'd be the one to shed some light on Rawboy's immature perceptions. But I know now that it's not my job. The world will teach him that. And I will miss him all the same, partly because he cooks for me, and partly because I invested some time in the sheltered boy that is my roommate.
Godspeed, Rawboy.
As for me- with the future in my eyes and my head held high, "Frankly, my dear- I don't give a damn."
Until next time,
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