Chapter One: Hi My Name Is...
Ever since I could remember, I had this belief that life is fairly unfair; and thus complaining about it was completely useless. I know what you’re thinking and you’re right, I still complain. Not as much as the average person of course, but enough to make one think I was average. To blend in, no need for unwanted attention. No one wants to go through life consistently being asked, “How are you so calm? What is your secret? Teach me your ways.” Okay I made up the last part, but you get the point. No one asks me anything besides why am I so quiet. I observe my surroundings, I speak when I have something to say, some see it as rude others as weird, either way I am happy. At least I was until I met her, hold that thought!
Unlike life though, love has different rules altogether, and they are not printed anywhere for reference. Sure you could type “Love” into Google, but all you'll get is a link to Wikipedia and several peoples opinion on the subject. Their wrong, Google, Wikipedia and the rest are all wrong. Love is like making a pact with the devil:
I know you don’t care about me, but if you could please give me a chance at this Love thing, I promise my undying devotion and trust that you do exist. And no matter how scarred I come out of this, I will encourage those after me to make the same pact and so on and so on.”
As with most pacts made under desperate measures, people often renege. These are the burn victims of Love. Telling any and everyone who will listen, not to waste time with Love or relationships of any sort. You're only going to get hurt.
"The best thing about loving and being hurt is that you get to know what true love really is. For as gold is tested in fire, and so will love be perfected in pain."
- Marvin Jay M. Torres
I don’t know much about this Torres fellow, but I do I understand where he is coming from. All extraordinary artists will tell you their greatest works came from pain, and the greatest pain comes from Love. At the moment of what may be my greatest pain, I’ll give you my Love.
By the time I was 21, I had for the most part figured out women. I had accomplished some great feat, but I never saw it like that. All I knew was women liked me and I got along with the opposite sex quite nicely. It was easier for me because I never really was that invested. I would move from relationship to relationship and carry on two or three at a time.
I built up this ideology that I needed two women to complete me. I never found everything in one woman. The fun and sexy one wasn't that intelligent, the smart girl wasn't adventurous. This logic would had been just perfect if I did not have plans to settle down, the way I saw it was I was headed for a future marriage, with a mistress on the side. I couldn't practice monogamy for the first time, on my wife to be.
Quitting cold turkey was difficult, I was good at starting relationships and ending them, but maintaining them was something like a dance with unfamiliarity. My attention span was that of a three year old. I enjoyed the chase, and more so than the chase, the challenge. The chase was easy, I've seen enough Tom and Jerry cartoons. But the challenge for me was an art. I seemed to date girls who were on the brink of giving up. Women who were looking at becoming a nun or a lesbian. Men had ruined their life and it was time for a change, that a haircut would not fix.
The reward though, that’s what enticed me to change, two juicy rewards that I believed I could achieve:
CONTROL, to be master of his own domain, to see a beautiful woman and just keep walking as if she does not exist. Knowing that you have someone just as beautiful waiting for you at home. Ignoring women advances, the flirting, the touching, “the look.” Needless to say, a plethora of men have fell victim to the look. But I wanted to be able to look “the look” in the eyes and kindly reply “No thank you.”
LOVE, I actually wanted to be in Love, to be vulnerable, weak, submissive. Most guys who juggle women will often tell you they love one of them, or even both, with a straight face. Hell even I said this, but one fails to realize that it is difficult to love someone when you do not love yourself, and I maintain that you do not love yourself if you are not honest with the one you “love.”
I could go on some long tangent about her beauty, her smile, the way angels sung when she spoke or any other cliche that you've heard or seen a dozen times in a 1000 romantic movies. But when I met Luv she was a Goddess, someone Venus herself would envy, breath taking, neck breaking gorgeous. Not the kind of woman you dream about, because you could not sleep on her. I approached with caution, I crossed the yellow tape and spoke, hoping my voice would not crack like a prepubescent teenager. I am the furthermost thing from smooth, when I first meet a woman, I crack jokes to mask my nervousness, hoping if she laughs she can only be thinking one of two things, either he's funny or crazy. But, instead of opening with a great one liner, the first words that came out my mouth was “Hi my name is...” (To Be Continued)