"You couldn't make yourself stop feeling a certain way, no matter what the other person did.
You just had to wait.
Eventually the feeling went away because others came along.
Or sometimes it didn't go away but got squeezed into something tiny,
and hung like a piece of tinsel in the back of your mind."
--Olive Kitteridge, by Elizabeth Strout
You just had to wait.
Eventually the feeling went away because others came along.
Or sometimes it didn't go away but got squeezed into something tiny,
and hung like a piece of tinsel in the back of your mind."
--Olive Kitteridge, by Elizabeth Strout
Yes, this is about The One That Got Away (TOTGA) but also about the nature of love and from whence it springs--the shape and size of it. Sort of a "How to Spot Love at Thirty Paces."
(Not that I have a clue.)
God, a wonderful Valentine's day and I spend the last part of it (mid-romantic concert) thinking about dark, brooding TOTGA. Yes, he's the one that got away and good riddance. But ... I can't get him out of my mind, piece of tinsel or not. Others have not replaced him yet.
How does one know that she's in love? Evan Marc Katz brilliantly espouses that it's not how you feel but how he treats you. (I am probably misstating the facts because if this is the case, I have known love more than a half dozen times--an embarrassment of riches, for sure.) Guy treats me amazingly well, but I am not in love. I am fond of him, but that's not enough for me. I want to respect him and be proud of him. I want to walk into a room on his arm and be thrilled to be there, on his arm.
Too much to ask? A mark of a spoiled thirty-something who hasn't made the most of her fading charms?
Blech. So much for the size and shape of love. I suspect this Love thing is a shape-shifter and a glorious, different thing for each of us. And I suspect that Love doesn't choose you--you have to choose Love. (Yes, I fear it's as airy-fairy as that, the horror!) I suspect that if I wanted to, I could love Guy.
I might manage it yet. But how to squeeze out TOTGA?
(Not that I have a clue.)
God, a wonderful Valentine's day and I spend the last part of it (mid-romantic concert) thinking about dark, brooding TOTGA. Yes, he's the one that got away and good riddance. But ... I can't get him out of my mind, piece of tinsel or not. Others have not replaced him yet.
How does one know that she's in love? Evan Marc Katz brilliantly espouses that it's not how you feel but how he treats you. (I am probably misstating the facts because if this is the case, I have known love more than a half dozen times--an embarrassment of riches, for sure.) Guy treats me amazingly well, but I am not in love. I am fond of him, but that's not enough for me. I want to respect him and be proud of him. I want to walk into a room on his arm and be thrilled to be there, on his arm.
Too much to ask? A mark of a spoiled thirty-something who hasn't made the most of her fading charms?
Blech. So much for the size and shape of love. I suspect this Love thing is a shape-shifter and a glorious, different thing for each of us. And I suspect that Love doesn't choose you--you have to choose Love. (Yes, I fear it's as airy-fairy as that, the horror!) I suspect that if I wanted to, I could love Guy.
I might manage it yet. But how to squeeze out TOTGA?
It seems as though TOTGA will be squeezed out when you really make that connection with someone. It sounds like you really want it to work with Guy...but you say "I might manage it"?? I really don't feel TOTGA is preventing you from loving again, you just haven't met that one guy that rocks your world. Our minds always go back to what we are most familiar with. Also,so many people 'settle' and can actually be quite content. But how dull is that?
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