I guess this sort of continues my rant from a few weeks ago about words sucking.

Today I want to get more specific and talk about romantic language. You know: “relationship;” “boyfriend/girlfriend;” “dating;” and the biggest of all: “love.” There are more, of course, those are just the ones coming to mind this morning; my frustration today is partly with the expectations that these words bring, and partly with the fact that because I was raised in the society that I was raised in, and all words have power, that these words do matter to me on some level, even if I can recognize the arbitrary nature of the words themselves.

In the depths of my soul, words don’t matter. Of course we use words to describe things, but as I said a few weeks ago, words almost always pale in their ability to explain esoteric things like music or style or art and words completely fall apart when trying to discuss emotional things like happiness or frustration or, most especially it seems to me, love. Words then, especially of the romantic variety, should be useful; when they become destructive they not only cease to be useful but need to be shunned.

Why can’t stuff just be what it is?

Why do we need all the language surrounding it?

If I like hanging out with someone why do I need to label it? Why do I want to label it?

Tim and I had a pretty long discussion last night about what impact words are having on us; what expectations we have created by labeling ourselves “in a relationship” and “boyfriend and girlfriend.” I find myself slightly torn, because I do ~like~ those words, they matter to me on some level, but when I examine what the truth of the situation is, the reality is that really I just like hanging out with him and talking with him and being with him. Why do I need those specific words? Do I really need them at all?

When I really tease things apart, the need for the words seems based in insecurity. For some reason it seems more real or serious or whatever if someone is my “boyfriend” as opposed to just my “friend.” But the words are so meaningless in the long run. When I got married my ex-wife and I promised to be together forever, and we meant it at the time; but clearly, by my use of the term “ex-wife,” it didn’t work out that way. Did that make the relationship that we shared any less special, any less magical? No, I don’t think it did. So what would have happened if we hadn’t used those specific words? Would we have given up more easily at the end if we hadn’t had those words on some level binding us to each other? Perhaps. But perhaps if we hadn’t used words such as “forever” and set such expectations on ourselves we could have gotten through the loss of the relationship more easily and seen the end of the relationship as not a failure but as more just a part of life and of each of our individual growth. It took years for me to be able to accept the end of my marriage, in no small part because I had let myself get caught up in the language of “forever,” “soul mate,” and “one true love.”

Ironically, my divorce, and life since my divorce, has convinced me that being single is not a “failed” state of existence. It’s true that I hope to get married again someday and raise a family, but my life could head in any of a million different directions. If I end up never finding a person with whom I connect with in the way that would lead to a long-term relationship, that’s okay; my life rocks and I’ll be happy and goofy for the vast majority of my life no matter which direction it goes. I’m not desperate to find anyone, though I would enjoy finding someone special. The best way for me to find what I want is to approach the process in a very open and honest way and take things as they come. The last thing in the world I want is to end up with a relationship that’s “better than nothing.” I will only accept a relationship that kicks ass. 

I don’t know; I find myself feeling confused and more than a little let-down by the verbiage and concepts of the romantic fairy-tale. On some level I want the fairly-tale, but it feels sometimes like I want it because I’ve been brainwashed to want it.

So, in my talk with Tim I said that the specific words aren’t really important to me, and they’re not. I told him the important thing to me for now is that we’re physically exclusive, everything else seems like so much unimportant semantics. We talked about the expectations that can come from being “in a relationship” as opposed to just “hanging out.” I guess I’m not specifically sure what we decided as far as words go, but we both agreed that we like hanging out with each other, which seems far and away the most important part. If the words make that more stressful for either one of us it seems pretty easy to forgo the words.

Part of this is of course specific to my situation with Tim. The fact that he’s 312 miles away makes it hard to see each other very often (which is a mixed blessing – it certainly forces a certain amount of deliberateness on this intense, excitable girl). There’s also the fact that this is first time I’ve found myself falling in love (fine, I said it) with a man; it’s really different from falling in love with another girl – when two girls fall in love it’s easy for them both to get carried away because they both are caught up in the romantic fantasy – when a guy is involved it seems to inject some rationality into the situation. (Yes, I’m well aware that last sentence was very much based on gender stereotypes, it’s also based on my experience, so shoot me.) There’s also the fact that my divorce taught two very important things. First, no matter how much you believe something will last forever, life happens and things often end sooner than we had anticipated. Second is the fact that life goes on; losses happen and are a part of life; if I can survive the loss of my marriage I can survive the loss of any relationship; loss brings pain, sure, but it is survivable and often brings renewed strength, focus, and perspective. So, I don’t “need” Tim (or anyone else, truly), I “want” to spend time with him; it’s a pretty profound difference.

Any other time I’ve been “in a relationship” for this long I’ve already been engaged (seriously, and yes, I realize that’s pretty twisted and shows something about my impulsivity and intensity). This is by far the slowest I’ve ever gone with someone that I’m interested in. It’s very new in many ways. It also feels more healthy than any other situation I’ve ever been involved in.

I’m also much more relationship experienced than Tim, which plays no small role in all of this I’m sure.

Finally is the very real point that I’m at a very unique time in my life: I am pretty adamant about not making any serious life-altering decisions prior to my surgery (and recovery). This is also helpful at putting some brakes on my normally “damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead” heart. I simply can not allow myself to get caught up in fantasy-land at this point in my life. Which means that now, of all times, is the perfect time for me to be in a very slow-moving, patient, and considered relationship.

There are a million possibilities with what could happen between me and Tim; instead of trying to label it and put expectations on it and force it to be something, I’m just interested in seeing where it goes organically and naturally. Isn’t that why we get up each morning, to see what the new day brings?

I just like him and he likes me. That’s pretty cool, yes? Why do we need to muddy it up with lots of words?

Suffice it to say that I’m going to see Tim this weekend and I’m pretty excited about it. And that’s really all that seems to matter right in this second.