congregated around my coffee table and as we each sipped on our steaming cups of camomile, the conversation quickly and inevitably veers towards the ever topical of topics, men.
as one playfully brings up the little white book “the rules”, and although we all laugh and giggle at the prospect, we begin to debate: how much of that book is actually true? are its ‘teachings’ actually applicable in real life? as they exchanged notes on their field experiences and experiments, it became apparent that at least some of the stuff from the book does occur in the real world. i wouldn’t know. in the end i think we all just agreed that there is no hard and fast rule.
as the girls continued to assess their (mis)understandings of men, i begin to voice my point: to me, it’s not yet about trying to understand men, for i’m still at the stage of pre-process, the prelude, the prequel to understanding men: understanding myself.
i’ve never understood the concept of playing hard to get or letting the man do the chasing or never giving too much or too little blah blah blah blah blah. so i couldn’t and wouldn’t even begin to assess the merits of these concepts.
i don’t know how to play games. i sucked at sports and could never coordinate my thumbs on a nintendo or my limbs on a dance machine. i don’t know how to play hard to get just so i that could get a great catch. i don’t know how to appear disinterested, just to solicit interest and arouse desire. something about acting like your unique self but never to stand out too much. say wha? always have your own opinions and thoughts but don’t talk too much. come again? and i most certainly don’t know how to be behave indifferently just so that you will treat me differently when i most definitely feel you are different to anyone else i’ve ever met…
perhaps therein lies my downfall?
such relationship jibberish is like rocket science, utterly beyond me. all i know is when i feel, I FEEL. when i fall, I FALL. i am most happy even just hearing your voice telling me some insignificant, obscure thing about your day. i feel sad when i cannot call you at random just to tell you the stupid thing i came across on my way home. i find myself worrying about you when it rains or when the traffic is bad or both.
for me when i feel and fall, there is no holding back, even if i tried. it’s not even about wearing my heart on my sleeves. try ripping my heart out with my own bare hands and presenting it on a silver platter. there is no facade, no frills, no razzle dazzle because i am incapable of pretty-fying me. it’s just all me – the good, the bad, the pretty, the ugly, the honest, the raw, and the real. is that not good enough? am i not good enough?
it’s a very extraordinary, adventurous place to be: incredibly raw, incredibly dangerous and you’re very much out at sea. you’re exposed. you could drown. when you commit to someone like that, you live and die together by that decision. – Nicole Kidman, 2009
