“I am so hungry for a big smashing creative burgeoning burdened love: I am here; I wait.” – Sylvia Plath
This is truth for me. This is undiluted, raw truth.
This is truth that I hide under practicality and reality and distraction and frankly, a lack of viable candidates anyway.
Because whenever I think of all my hopes and dreams, especially the really steep ones, there’s always that voice ‘but you gotta be realistic though’ , telling me not to think too outside my scope. That’s the ‘real world’ talking. And I’ll concede, that voice is very necessary. It stops me from flying off rooftops and such. But I have to admit, reality breaks my heart.
But what about this ‘big, smashing, creative etc..’ love? Is it so far out of my reach? Maybe the type I’m thinking of. Because all these movies and novels and music sell me bullshit that real life can never live up to. Nevertheless, I’d like to think that, even with all that bull clouding my judgement a lot of the time, I can still reasonably want some of that. Love. Or unreasonably want all of it, because anything is possible. I mean, these love stories, what draws me isn’t so much the grand gestures or the ever-occurring love at first sight, as the connection. The fact that you can connect so deeply with another person that you just want to know every part of them. That I can also share every single part of myself and know that it’s appreciated. I don’t want to be in a relationship just to be in one. I want to be in a relationship because I cannot stand to not know you. One where I know you feel the same way. Not passive love, active, very active love. Heat and depth.
Like I said before, there are no viable candidates as at now.
I wait.
But hey, I’m sure I’m not really selling myself as much of a candidate either. Because on a normal day you won’t see any of ‘this’ part of me. I don’t go around spouting literary quotes or musing out loud. I don’t have my nose in a book walking around, ready to bump into my soulmate, and honestly, most of the time I’m holed up in my room anyway. I can be veryyyyyy basic. I can store all this away. I know where I learnt how to hide all this.
And as a result of a low sense of self-respect coupled with desperation and the unfortunate fact that I don’t have a lot to work with anyway, I fall for the typical guy. I generally fall for the guy that everyone falls for. There’s nothing particularly original about you if I like you. Because all I really need is for you to be cute and a little flirty and funny and pay attention to me. I don’t even need you to be single. You don’t have to work hard. Because I’ll take you and change and distort you in my head into who I want you to be and who you could be if only I could work on you. I take all the things I’m really looking for in a guy and inject them into the little things that you do.
I used to wonder how people could just settle for any old person, when your potential soulmate could be out there. Your great love story waiting. But I could see myself settling. It’s very easy. I get it.
But I won’t. That’ll be my new mantra, ‘I won’t settle, I won’t settle, I won’t settle.’