I’ve been chewing on this blog for like two months trying to figure out how the hell to write it. I think I half figured it out, so let’s do dis.
This blog is about the most complex game in the entire world: Love.
No matter how much you hate the game, in order to win, you have to suit up.
Hold up though… how are you supposed to master a game that doesn’t come with a set of instructions? Where the rules are constantly changing, the players are many, and the stakes are stupidly high?
Is it really a fair fight when the scales can tip quick as a flash over a word misspoken? A text sent too late? Without enough emoji?
Sure, one can argue that there are clues that alert you as to whether you’re playing it right. The length and frequency of texts. Response time. Urgency to see you in person.
But how can you even win when each player follows an entirely different set of rules?
Like… you wouldn’t just fuse together Mario Kart and Halo into one game. It’d be a total clusterfuck. The players wouldn’t even know how to interact with each other. Can you imagine Princess Peach trying to chat up one of the dudes in Halo? He’d shoot her in the face. She’d throw bananas at him. Total disaster.
So why is love so… clusterfucky?
And who wins at this game? Really? It’s scary how good I am at this game, but like… can I tap out? Will I find someone on the sidelines who’s also sick of all the stupid rules? Maybe that’s the trick. Maybe to win, you have to stop playing. Like in Hunger Games. Just blow up the stupid arena that’s controlling you.
Problem is, when you stop playing… you lose too. In a different way.
But seriously though… who’s winning?
Is it people in relationships?
Is it people who have passionate encounters and then go on their merry way?
There are times when the idea of a relationship exhausts me and I want to go on being the female equivalent of a fuckboy forever because it’s a hell of a lot of fun. Then, there are times when I’m reminded of why people do get into relationships, and all logic and sensibility go out the window. The vodka tells my thumbs to send a stupid text and boom – I’m back in the clusterfuck.
Love really seems like a war zone. Everyone wants to get involved. Mom. Dad. Grandma. Friends. Everyone has expectations for you. The other players have a whole other set of expectations. And let’s not forget that we each have our own expectations of what we want, with that person, and bam. We’re back in Halo/Mario Kart land throwing bananas at each other.
The worst part is, when love does come a-knocking – especially when we’re caught off guard – we become paralyzed in fear. We’d rather close the flood gates than try and learn to swim in unfamiliar waters. We’re safe within our own walls.
Yet we want love. Real love. We’re in this together love. But the crux of it is that we’re all just kind of like:
So we do nothing. We let it go. We tell ourselves the high isn’t worth the pain. We remember how it’s not the first dates that break you. It’s not the second dates or even the thirds. It’s not the dinners and drinks or trips to the movies.
It’s when time utterly stops when you’re together. It’s the twinkle in his eyes when he smiles that make you weak in the knees. It’s when he fixes the broken doorknob in your apartment. It’s when you can tell from his eyes how much he cares, even when he doesn’t say a damn thing.
That’s what breaks you. That’s what we’re simultaneously running toward, and away from. Push, pull, push, pull. Stumbling around like newborn giraffes looking for food.
Can we win at this game? Who effing knows? I guess the only way to find out is to keep playing. Or… not?
In the meantime, here are some angsty ass songs to help you cope with the jungle of confusion. And may the odds be ever in your favor:
Habits of My Heart