May 2008
The Dance
I’ve always been the type of person who enjoys helping others. In high school, I played the matchmaker–people would come up to me, ask me for help, and I would take on the role of Cupid to aid them in getting the guy or girl. Then, for satisfaction, I would go to the high school dances just to see the outcome of the couples I helped set-up. The outcomes–and dances themselves–are always more fun on television than in person but, alas, nothing is ever the way television portrays it to be. In that world everyone is happy, and no one ever dances alone. If someone is alone, their dream date struts through the door at the cue of a song. But sometimes in life you stand against the wall in uncomfortable clothing and watch as other people take the hand of the person you wanted to dance with–sometimes you’re alone.
The songs are always over before we know it, and then the magic fades away. True there’s always another dance, but I see so many people dancing alone these days hoping someone will burst through the doors to meet them, but no one ever does. The people who do come along only want to bump and grind, and we wish those people would’ve stayed home to practice on their pillow.
At the end of the night, I was the person who ended up standing against the wall, satisfied with a contentedness I felt inside. I’d watch the speckles of light leap from the disco ball throughout the gymnasium and continue to wash over the faces of those on the dance floor. Yet I smiled as the couples I helped get together embraced each other, and I’d take in the beauty of it all before leaving. As the door closed behind me, I listened to the muffled music playing in the background while I walked down the stairs. I couldn’t hear the lyrics, but aren’t they really all the same? Yada, yada, yada…love is great…yada, yada, yada. Of course, when do you ever hear songs about love hurting when you’re at a dance? You have to go to a bar to hear that song. And boy, after you’ve danced to that tune, is that crooning country man ever right!
Now that I look back, I know why I never aimed an arrow at anyone for myself–I was protecting myself from the pain. Those bow and arrows were my protection from falling in love. Really, though, have you ever seen Cupid holding anything or anyone besides a bow and arrow? Yet he always looks happy; no one ever worries about Cupid–people think he has his life together.
When I got older, I decided to be brave and step out onto the dance floor. I peeled myself from the wall, rested my bow and arrows on the floor, and took a chance. The dance was great at first until I realized I was the only one really dancing. But the arrow already pierced my skin, and the love serum already started to seep through my veins. Apparently dances are great as long as you’re not the only one putting forth the effort. But as much as it hurts, eventually you have to pull the arrow out and toss it to the ground–that dance is over.
You don’t realize how dark the room really is until you see the one you used to love on the dance floor with someone else. The darkness closes in, and you can’t help but feel a sense of sadness as you watch the couple hold each other in midst of the ambiance. The spotlight is no longer on the two of you, and although you know it no longer should be, your heart falls like pieces of confetti when you see that face again. All those memories you had together simply lay on the floor with the broken arrow when the lights come back on. The dance was merely that–a few moments of something that only lasted as long as the song played.
Yeah, I know that love may be good for some of you. It can be one of the best things in the world when things are going right, but love really is bittersweet. It’s like reaching for honey in a bee’s nest–you have to get stung and feel the pain in order to get the honey. Afterwards, there may be swelling or scarring, but that’s the price you pay to get a taste of it; nothing in life is free.
I learned that it’s good to help others, but you have to help yourself in the process and you have to stop fearing the good things in life. I wish I could say that there’s someone for everyone out there, but I’m not sure I really know. I do know that standing against the wall directing love to other people because you’re too afraid to commit won’t make things any better. We have to learn to toss the arrows to the side and take our chances by stepping out onto the floor. The dance is short, so learn to enjoy it–even if you are alone…
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The One
“Don’t worry–you’ll find the one,” I’ve heard reiterated throughout childhood stories and constantly during adulthood through friends and the television. It’s the poster all singles should have pasted on their bedroom walls–right next to the ‘Titanic‘ movie poster (you know, the one with Ms. Winslet and Mr. DiCaprio mysteriously staring off into the distance. As if two people couldn‘t have fit onto that board–please.)
I used to believe that it‘d be easy to find ‘the one’–of course, at one time in my life, I believed my imaginary friend, Kissy Fur the cartoon bear, was real. (Apparently I had a telepathic link with him which caused me to perceive his thoughts, actions, and corporeal furriness.) C’est la vie, I guess. But it really is a magical feeling to think there’s one person out there amongst the countless populations who will love us for exactly who we are and accept our faults and even love the imperfections, because–garsh darn it (insert goofy smile)–we‘re just that gee-golly special. (Take moment to celebrate this fact by throwing a handful of body glitter above your head while clapping joyously.)
“They just weren’t the one for you,”
Well, thanks for stating the obvious. After hearing that phrase over and over after each failed relationship, it almost cheapens the optimistic outlook it’s supposed to generate. You might as well say, “Flush that turd. Give it time (and some fiber) and wait for the next one to float up.”
Everyone makes falling in love seem as if it’s a big pajama party with Disney characters when, in reality, it’s more like unknowingly romancing a prostitute–no matter what you thought the experience was going to be, you come away with little dignity and pray to God that if you come out with anything more than life experience, it had better be treatable with an ointment.
Truth is: we live in a different world now. The rules have changed, and people don’t see a need to commit because things like morals and values no longer apply. There are so many outlets now when it comes to cheating, and sadly, sexual-straying isn’t as frowned upon as it used to be. These days, saying that a person will find ‘the one’ is like saying Amy Winehouse has beautiful teeth. Yet, we hopeless romantics are addicted to the idea of there being ‘the one.’ Why? Is it because of our fear of ending up alone? In the meantime, do we keep hope as a companion?
Following a break-up, our consolation prize is another chance at dipping into that proverbial love pool to perhaps find that catch or to have our hearts broken one more time so we can ’rinse and repeat’ the bubbly process until we find that one person yet again. But I know now why they call it ‘the one’–because one person is all it takes to get to you…
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Puzzles
You meet all kinds of people in this life. Some people are easier to figure out, while others are a little more complicated to understand. The truth is: people are puzzling. Since we’re all made up of more than a few pieces, it takes a while to put those pieces together. But it’s not as if we have a photo on the box to look at–we just have to take one section at a time and do our best with it.
Sometimes you come across people who are missing a few pieces of the puzzle. And no matter how hard you try to figure them out, you’re never going to, because you were never looking at a complete set to begin with. So accept your losses and move on. If not, you’ll waste more time searching for something that will never appear with someone who doesn‘t know exactly what they‘re working with.
You also come across people who are just as broken inside as the pieces of the puzzle. No matter how much you try to keep them together, they keep falling apart. And they’ll never stay together because they choose not to have any type of adhesion in their lives. If you keep trying to fix them, you’ll break yourself apart in the process and end up scattered across the floor. Then, you’ll have to piece yourself together instead.
I’ve learned there are times we try to place pieces into our lives that don’t necessarily fit. And as we all know, we can’t forcibly insert something into our lives if it doesn’t belong there. Yet we try. But that’s when we learn the hard way–we bend and push until we make them fit. However, when we see the big picture, we realize which pieces don’t belong. And that’s when we are forced to rearrange our lives and place the appropriate parts where they fit. No doubt you’ll do a lot of searching and have times of frustration along the way, but life won‘t put itself together for you.
The best part of the puzzle is the end result–when all of the pieces come together to form a picture. I’d like to think that all of those jagged pieces will fit together nicely when all is said and done–that the hard times we thought were in vain actually served a purpose. Maybe we’ll take a step back and see that the bits of the puzzle are what makes life exciting–not knowing exactly what you’re going to put together but knowing that, over time, even the most complex puzzle comes together with effort. The final picture depends on the pieces we lay down in life…
