Dear Diary: 26 November 2012

Now Playing: Rambling Man by Laura Marling (it's hard to accept yourself as someone you don't desire)

Dear Diary 26 November 2012

Dan Savage talks about how The One doesn't exist - it's a lie that we buy into when we're young and silly and high on hormones and living off a steady diet of chick lit and rom coms. Dan Savage talks about GGG and that if you're not an asshat, you will meet multiple 'ones'. And these ones won't be perfect; at most, 'they'll do'. They're not even a full 1.00 - they'll be 0.64 or 0.87 and you'll have to make the conscious decision to round them up to 'the one'. And you won't be perfect for that person, either. There will be things about you that will drive them insane but you don't have to change who you are. Real love is loving in spite of the things that drive you mental.

So this theory - The Theory of Multiple Ones - can affect you in two ways, I think. Firstly, I think it makes you fall in love just a little too easily. I know I definitely have fallen for some assholes in my time. I think it makes you too forgiving of the things that really should be deal-breakers, and I think it makes you feel almost obligated to turn a blind eye to things that you secretly know you really can't live with. But I also think that the Theory of Multiple Ones makes you more resilient, more optimistic. It's understanding that love isn't finite, and that no matter how much of a dick the 'love of your life' is being, there is always always always someone better. It's helped me to move on - that no matter how treacherous, intoxicating, addictive some wild dangerous reckless love is, there'll always be more, and it always gets better. I don't believe in the one. I believe that I've met a few 'ones' - but nothing worked out out. And it's not as if I didn't give it a shot - surely I get brownie points for trying. But it didn't work out, and that's that. Because of the Theory of Multiple Ones, I'm over it. I can hold on to precious memories but look forward to a beautiful future. Because of The Theory of Multiple Ones, I can begin again.

That's the thing, though, isn't it? Love is the only thing in which you don't get brownie points for trying. You're supposed to fall in love, trip over it, stumble around blindly in the dark on the off chance you'll bump into your Fairytale Princess or Prince Charming. But you don't get brownie points for trying - you're called cheap, desperate, etc etc etc. Why? Things don't work unless you give it a shot. Everything I've ever gotten in life I worked bloody hard for. Love is no different. A relationship, a marriage, a family, is no different. Love and sex and relationships - we all want them, but we don't want anyone to actually want them. We expect all these things to fall into our laps and it makes no sense whatsoever. I'm not ashamed of the fact that I would like a relationship. I applied for uni. I bought plane tickets to Korea. Anything you want just needs initiative. According to the Theory of Multiple Ones, I'll find my >0.50 people by...looking, really. I am tired of people looking down on me for actively seeking out what I need the most.

I guess The Theory of Multiple Ones might bother some people - because by prescribing (prescribing? Is that the right word? Who the hell gave me the English Award?) to this theory I'm acknowledging that my love is not a finite resource, it's not a barter game, it's not a single use thing. It doesn't give people the permission to be a total dickhead to me, comfortable in the assurance that they are My One and Only and That is That. I'm acknowledging that if I love someone, I can always love another just as much if that person happens to screw things up. And you know what? I can honestly say that I highly doubt I'll properly screw things up. I'm not saying that I've never broken hearts before - I have - or that I'll never dump someone for no other reason than I just don't like them anymore, or I never liked them in the first place - because I have. But I don't think I have it in me to not do my utmost to be the most loving and sincere partner I can be, and I don't think I have it in me to lie and cheat and fuck over someone that I love. Who else can say that, really? I suppose being eternally single has done that to me. I've wanted so badly and I've spent so long on the sidelines that I don't take love for granted, and I've learned how not to do things. Really. I've watched so many relationships come and go, so many perfect things break apart, and I'm a fast learner.

I've always found it strange that people find it shameful to want love. We are human - we need love more than we need anything else - food, air, oxygen - you can have all that and still die of starvation. We need love and touch and company and intimacy more than anything else, and it is idiotic to try and deny that. We find it shameful because love is a wild card - there is no rhyme or reason. It's dangerous and treacherous and makes you incredibly vulnerable, but it's also inexplicable and unexplainable and totally irrational. It's not cause and effect, supply and demand. It's not predictable. We want to tie love to things like wealth or looks - temporal vanities and material possessions - but as much as love and lust keep the same company neither should be as shallow as that. We live in a world where everything has to be explained, justified. Love can't be justified. I've loved some of the worst people I've ever met, and can't stand some of the nicest, sweetest people I know. Love makes no sense, and we should just stop trying to make sense of it. All we do is screw things up.