The Passion of the Young − 9 April, 2008
As I was coming home tonight, I saw a man pacing up and down the darkened streets in front of what I presumed to be his house. He was shirtless and holding a cell phone to his ear. It was obvious that he was talking to his girlfriend.
I wonder why that is, that guys feel the need to seperate themselves when they talk to their girlfriends. I see it all the time, and don't give it much thought anymore. There is an apparent distinction between who we are around our friends, and who we are around someone we've given our heart to.
Even as the air blew chilled across his bare shoulders, still he talked, and with a smile on his face, no less.
This is an area of talk that I generally try to avoid. Stories of love are wasted on my cynical ears. I forget that there are those less calloused than myself. I was talking to my sixteen year old brother, Travis, about his current girlfriend, who he'd recently lost his virginity to. I listened as one might listen to a story they've heard a time or two before.
"I can't really see myself with anyone else."
I said nothing. What could I say? I knew how he'd respond, and if he stayed quiet, I'd know what he was thinking. When I was seventeen, I dated a girl, and as is wont to happen, I lost my virginity to her. We were overcome by the passion of the young, and we were unstoppable. One day, I was in the car with my father, and the subject turned my new relationship.
"You like her a lot, then?"
"I can't really see myself with anyone else."
He gave me his advice about the fragility of young love, and warned of its inevitable end. I just nodded and kept quiet. He didn't know what he was talking about. I was different. We were different.
Now, watching my brother walk down the same path, I can't help but feel sad for him. He spends hours on the telephone, stays out too late with her, finds himself talking about the future. Years have taught me that my dad was right, that I would "date other girls." What he didn't tell me was how hard it got, and how terrible one person can make you feel. If I could get one thing across to this boy, it would be that.
What doesn't kill you, I suppose.
Comments:
peahayes (April 17, 2008. 10:36pm)
Even that one he'll have to learn on his own. Knowledge in the ways of love is usually hard won.
intrepideddie (April 18, 2008. 05:28am)
Yeah, it can leave you bloody and beaten in the gutter. Sometimes you wind up there several times before you start figuring things out. Then again, it will be there right in the center of all your best memories. Love is a fickle bitch.
kga245 (April 21, 2008. 05:02pm)
It's also common that one never learns this lesson. It's all about figuring out who you are and what you want. The voyage of self-discovery necessarily involves knowing what it is you want from others as well. So, in love. Self-discovery if not attained means that the people you love are also subject to the incompleteness of self being expressed by the (stunted) relationships we have with them.
peahayes (April 30, 2008. 09:24pm)
I've been sitting on your comment, Kelly. I wanted to come back to it and re-read it. It felt deep enough at the time that maybe I was too sleepy to take it in or something. But I like it quite a bit. I think you have captured volumes in a few short sentences. You sound like an old soul.