Friday, August 18, 2006

Assessing the Balance

Photo source: unknown

I found an old friend that I hadn't seen or spoken to in thirteen years and suddenly my life was put in reverse and slow motion where I was allowed to savour all my nostalgic memories one by one.
Most were happy, I relived the best years of my life but there were one or two moments that made me flinch or laugh out loud at myself.
One of those memories was Mr. Timetable.
Oh yeah! - Trust me to fall in love with the one guy in school that went out with almost every girl in the playground.
Ten years old and I drooled over a sports fanatic with an ego the size of the planet and the vocabulary the size of the cricket ball he seemed to be fascinated with.
And what pray tell attracted me to this creature?
Well he did have a pair of the bluest eyes I'd ever seen (don't trust blue eyes ladies, the label on those two suckers says: “manipulator” and if you got them at a bargain they'll come as: “shameless liar” as well!)
But his eyes weren't really what attracted me to him; I have to confess that my downfall was the fact that he was the junior photocopy of Patrick Swayze. And at a time where Dirty Dancing was the movie watched at least twice a day, silly me couldn't help but associate the brace face jock to the God of dance himself.
And would you believe that this fascination lasted most of my primary school years?!
Here I was madly in love with something that looked like something I longed for and in the meantime he couldn't have been more the opposite of what I wanted! With an attention span of a locust and a soul about as deep as my bathroom sink, I'd say I was pretty much off the mark!
I'm happy to report that the choices that followed had a hell of a lot more to do with me than the guy, but at least with this one I actually managed a spot in his “new-month-different-girl” calendar.

When contemplating such wrong moves, we tend to ask ourselves what went wrong right after we scream out “What the hell was I thinking!”
After analyzing my last attraction, I decided that the reasons hadn't changed much over the years. So what is it that women see in losers?
We’re like the artists that look at a rock of marble and sees something beyond the rough edges, yearning to sculpt out the image we see in our minds. There are those that like clay have the potential to be mould into whatever they think they want to be and then there are those that have drawn the blueprints of a building in their heads and only have yet to construct…
But as wonderful as this sounds, a dream only becomes reality when you make it happen. “Almost” is just a politically and nice way of saying; It didn't happen.
Behind every great man is a great woman and most woman seek to be the jewel that crowns her man as king.
As noble as this seems, it implies going a lot misfits before you find your man and a hell of a lot of disappointment when you realize that most of them never achieve even half of their true potential.

Returning to my latest eye catcher, I got myself wondering what it was about this one that captivated me. It didn't take long to find the answers:
Potential – no doubt, he definitely promised to be more than he seemed.
Depth – Or am I standing at the shallow end of the pool?
Intelligence – Perhaps what I'm hearing is sharp wit caught on a crash course of “What women want to hear - charm and impress”
Once again, it can be concluded that I've read too much into the young man's potential and while this is considered a female weakness. I consider is a regretful consequence of a woman’s tendency to look for the best and the good in everything she sees and does… including men. We’re suckers for the weaker sex.

Fortunately, wisdom and maturity teaches a woman when to let go of a lost cause…
I'd like to think I've gotten better at it over the years though I confess that I've never been one to lose the faith easily.
How to get loose?
As one of my bosses would say: “compare figures”
Remember that when you add a whole bunch of potentials, all you really have is nothing. Go on solids, count only the certainties. And once that inventory is taken; look yourself in the mirror and ask if the effort is worth the investment.
If you're honest with yourself, you'll be pretty surprised with the answers that add up.
Talk is cheap – anyone can feed you words; if they don't come from the heart then they're as good as noise.
That look in his eye could be an allergic reaction; the sweet smile was actually meant for the secretary and he invited you for coffee because he needed you to brief him on the latest information he missed out.

Don’t bother asking your heart; filled with hope it will only misguide you and help you to read between the lines that weren’t printed in the first place.
I've learnt that when a man likes you, nothing can keep him away and therefore, if he doesn't put in the effort, then neither should you.
(Even if I'm wrong, who would want a coward by their side!)

Re-evaluating the most recent of my interests, I decided that it really makes no sense to want to get to know someone that isn't interested in getting to know me.
Why want him to know what he missed out on?
Ignorance is bliss and if destiny is cruel, he’ll find out eventually at a point where it no longer makes a difference.
Women look and see too deep… men look and see no further than the surface.
And this is the screwed up difference in the perspective of the sexes.

The last I heard, my first crush was still single, still arrogant, still good-looking and still losing friends over women that he doesn't date for very long.
As for the recent crush; I was hoping to find out more but to try and get to know someone who barely registers your existence is about as productive as a fan that reads up on her favourite celebrity: useless information that has been stretched and adapted to impress and distract the reader from reality.
My first crush also happened to be my first kiss… behind a building so no one could see. I remember my palms going sweaty and my body going numb. My cheeks wanted to burst and I couldn't remember what I was supposed to do! He leaned it and touched lips with mine and before I could even feel their warmth… it was over.
That was it?!
No rush to the head, no fireworks?
Hell there was more emotion in the anticipation then in the whole process itself. I guess that's life's cruel way of preparing you for the reality that awaits you… And men still wonder why we women value foreplay!
As for the current – let's just say that excess anticipation is torture to the female brain!

Do we really know better with the passing of time? Does growing older guarantee better knowledge? Most people don't identify with children because they forgot what it's like to be one or feel like one… is it all that different?
After reminiscing down memory lane with my youth fresh in my mind, I looked in the mirror to look for the differences developed in the last thirteen years.
My face matured but I still looked the same… same nose, same lips, and even the same expressions although somewhat more controlled.
The biggest difference was found in my eyes, not in so much in colour and mostly in depth. The windows to my soul.
Is that maturity I see? Or is that the organization and insecurity portrayed by life's experiences?
The way I see it, deep down we're still our former childish selves thinking we know more simply because we’re bigger and so we call ourselves adults.
Because I'm older do I necessarily understand the world better?
I recall working the remote control better as a kid than now as an adult, perhaps the same goes for love…?
Have remote controls really become more complicated?
Does the intensity of feelings truly differ so much with the years or do we just find more ways to analyze and describe them?
We fool ourselves into believing that if the description is different and the conditions were different then so were the sentiments.
Does it hurt less? Does it hurt more or is it just what we tell ourselves or order to make it feel different… mature.

Time passes and I grow, I learn and I polish my perspectives but something inside me stays the same… is it the heart? Is it the soul? Or is it my inner child?
Life is bleak if you can't see it through the eyes of a child… where’s the intelligence in taking things for granted? Where the pleasure of tomorrow if you can't see it as an adventure?
Failure is when you forget that fun was the reason you started it all in the first place! Happiness… Love… Smiles…
That's what we’re all in it for!

Looking back, I came to only two conclusions:
You can only sincerely evaluate a certain period of your life once it's over, so why over analyze the present?!
And I don't regret any of the mistakes I made; only the ones I didn't attempt.

Life is short – dance naked.


Anonymous said...

Hi Shorty-great article,very true in alot of ways...we have all been in the same spot before and it was great thinking back to those years and having a good laugh. I will never forget your crush on playboy!! Cannot wait to see you..Love Blondie

Storm said...

Too bad I don´t know you that far back, I believe primary school years are definitely the definining years and the one´s we have more fun in.
I was amused with your descriptions and I particularly loved the last sentence.

Nice writing!

dreams said...

that's true...

we can only analize things that happened, so why overanalize them when they're still happening...

life is short...

so, as you said... let's dance naked :)

a sweet kiss *

p.s. i dare to write about men...

Lord of Erewhon said...

«Life is short - dance naked»?!)
JAJAJAJA!!!... muito cresceste tu! :)=

Lord of Erewhon said...

P. S. Qualquer dia ainda posto a primeira conversa que tive contigo... :)=

Patrícia Chaparrínho said...

I dont know.... there´s something familiar about this hole question. Didn´t someone you know tell you exactly something like this and you refused the idea right away? hahahahah!!!! I´ve seen this moovie before, no doubt, it keeps going on and on, ant it´s not only women. Men also like a hard catch. It´s human! We´re bored! What can one say more about it?