The way we love

I grew up in more or less a prude, sans-romance family setting. The kind where mothers cover their kids' eyes when kissy scenes are on television. This was never lost on my sister and me. Even though out loud we said "ewww" to a lot of these things, we always wanted have crushes, kiss people, all those good things we'd been hearing about.

I think my first relationships were a little dangerously conducted as a result. (This is also where I stop being able to speak to my sister's experience.) The only thing to do was to carry out the motions rehearsed to us and set ourselves up for a crisis each time. So people came and went, with varying levels of acceptance from the parents. We never heard their story, how they met, how they grew close, how they came to love one another. (We know now.) We just knew to find people by ourselves, to be attentive and devoted, to give unconditionally, until personal neuroses were revealed and pain takes hold, and then quit and start over.

A few months ago, my mother found out about both of our relationships at the time. We were both about to steal away with our romantic counterparts somewhere far from home. She didn't disapprove this time, but didn't understand why we would do things like this to ourselves. It's not like you're going to marry this person, she said. Why trouble yourselves? Why put so much effort into improbabilities of sentiment and emotion? Sitting next to her, I felt silly for having grown up at all without her wisdom. Kind of sheepishly, I told her that this is how we love.

We love as if there is only one soul out there for us. We look for people as if the world is so small and so cold that it'd be wiser to hook onto the nearest body and hope mutual fascination occurs. And we risk everything for this. We love as if it's a limited resource based on functions of population, time and age. What we really can do now is to unlearn everything.

This makes me so happy.

via the Lost ROFL blog...

Dualisms stun me

... because they're sooo true. The enlightened folks who have tried to teach us this... they were probably correct all along. To know how intimately this applies, to deep thinkers and non-spirituals alike, in every facet of experience is so real, powerful, and awesome.

When the duality of fear and love presents itself, you know which one to choose. Both are true, proud and inpenetrable. Both must exist, but you're allowed to choose one to be happy.

I could've put this more tangibly. I really could have.

In unrelated news, first comment! Aww. :)

Bodymarks

Lately, I had a conversation with my sister. It went like this:

Juliana just WON a game of ssb brawl. <3ing> 2:07am

David at 2:08am

sick game. always gives me a blister on my left thumb.

Juliana at 2:09am

ME TOO!
also, you always made me play until i blistered my left thumb. thanks.

David at 2:10am

that can only be attributed to noobdom.

Juliana at 2:10am

we're not on speaking terms anymore.

Obviously, these marks don't just leave a physical memory. Let me give a list of the ones I have.

- blister scar on the first segment of my left thumb. only nintendo controllers do this.
- real knee scars, still red. it's been almost three years since biking in the dolomites.
- surgery scars. i had a surgery done in third grade that should've come much earlier.
- acne scars. i had no help through puberty.
- writer's callous on my right ring finger. like my writing, it developed early, but never got very strong.
- left tibia that sticks out a little. when i was playing soccer in middle school, my knee got swollen. it was diagnosed as osgood-schlatter disease, but the inflammation has stopped. there's still a little pointy bone there.

Edit: I forgot a few, I'm sure. Perfect bite? You pay a price in having had braces. Tooth fillings? As a boy, I drank apple juice before bedtime. Terribly dry skin? I generally take bad care of myself.