Heavier Things

I demand too much from the people I love. I demand that they listen to me talk, assure me that there's no rat under my bed when I'm alone at home, make the small decisions..the "what do you want to eat today" and "which film should we watch" kind and never ever hang up on me when I call them.

Conversely, I demand too little from the people I don't know. There is the neighbour who's rude to me and gets away with it, the colleague who dumps all the work on me or the shopkeeper who sells me a bad product. Oh! How can I forget the maid who thinks she can bully me into buying her a pressure cooker! (maid management classes anybody?)

I may be unjust to my people and not mean enough to the strangers. So I understand why most of mine need so much space... But at the end of the day, if you claim that the walls close up on you each time I call, then you can't be anyone I love. And neither listening to David Gray nor willing for things to be different is going to change that.

Right. Now that this is out of my system, time to go shopping!!

Why I think my brain is made out of Cheese

I often read articles friends have "shared" on Facebook, just for the heck of it.  These range form superfluous, ridiculous, overly opinionated to downright lies. Maybe it was my state of mind, but I found this article, cheesily titled Why Love Matters More (And Less) Than You Think that hit home.


"Perhaps our celebrations of "love" are so often tinged with a quiet desperation because what we're really pursuing is a caricature of love. And perhaps by endlessly redrawing that caricature, we ourselves are lessened, little by little; as if we feel we don't fully belong in the human world, but can't quite understand why. None of us belong here. But we are here. And there's not enough time. Cut the bullshit. Love."


And I see what he means. A lot of us crib about being single, get angsty on Valentine's Day, scout out new people at social gatherings, have random sex with strangers all in the bid to get what we want. But beneath all this, we seem so afraid to articulate what it is exactly that we want. I have a friend who's been around the block a couple of times and she mentioned to me once that her biggest problem is often that she can't read the subtext of what the guy wants out of a particular encounter. You may want a casual no-strings-attached-sex-only relationship, but then you have no right to be cagey and make promises you have no intention of keeping. You may want to get married today and not wait for the next two years, but if you don't say it out loud, you cannot expect the other person to be ready. 


In all fairness, every time someone asks me what kind of person I would like to like, I make up vague clichéd statements and generally avoid the topic. But honestly, I want someone who will ground my life and also add some crazy to it. Someone who won't give me too much attention but will still let me know that I am special to him; call it as it is when I'm being an ass but respect the work I do; want to argue with me on silly issues without taking it personally and be comfortable with the space that he will occupy in my life without being scared of it. 


Of course, when I think that I've found someone who could potentially fit the bill and he turns out to be a jerk, it feels like someone's burnt me with a hot iron. On my part, I'm rather dramatic and filmi when I get hurt. I queue up sad, wrenching songs on my playlist, get into the shower, turn the water to scalding hot and just cry until I'm numb and I can't feel anything. 


But maybe what I should be thinking is that there's not enough time to cry over what happened any more. He's gone and I can't care because I need to find that person who's going to call it as it is when I'm being an ass.