Snippitts of Illusions

Dancing

We are all doing it.
That dance, that relationship/love dance.
Some of us are good at it. Some of us can flitter between partners and significant others like bees to flowers, finding one to give our hearts too, and settling down in security, not doubting for an instant our decision, and all the while remaining friends with those we'd danced with prior.
Success, by most accounts is finding someone you can "settle down" with.
Though that doesn't have to be success.
Any relationship that ends on a good note is not a bad thing, though any relationship that ends could be considered such.
What's the purpose of the dance.
Love? Sex? Friendship?
Yes.
Love is the primary motivation, though few people realize it, love is the underlying reason we continue with it.
Sex how ever maybe the instigator.
It may be the one thing that motivates us to actually begin dancing.
To be with another person, both crass and beautiful... and let's admit it: funny.
JayC was right when he said sex if funny (i believe it was him).
There however is nothing funny about love.
Love is wonderful and painful.
It's like a flower, beautiful to behold, but so fragile.
It waxes and wanes like the moon.
It's both wonderful, and terrible.
And it has levels.
Levels of commitment, levels of anguish.
Love, doesn't have to be sexual.
When we do the dance, we lose sight of this fact.
One seems to go hand in hand with the other when we look at them.
But that's not the case.
That's the illusion you see.
That's the whisper.
Friendship and love however; those two things are inseperable.
It's difficult to seperate the two, but they have levels.
So often I hear people say that they've married their best friend.
Perhaps that's when you know that you've succeeded.

I don't dance well.
Never have.
Part of it's me, part of it's them.
Most girls don't view me as a potential partner in the dance.
I'm too nice, or sweet, or in touch with my feelings or some such thing.
For some reason my passion for artistic endeavors makes me ineligible to dance.
Or maybe its' being a big hairy ogre.
Or maybe it's all of the above.
I've half given up.
I tried to dance, many times over.
Each time unsuccessful, inevitably stepping on my own feet.
And the pain of it leaves me a little more bitter each time.
Persuing love is a clumsy thing I do.
When I'm old, mean and spiteful... well it's my own fault, but not wholey.
This isn't to say I don't love... I do.
But I keep silent on the subject with most people.
It's easier that way.
But as I stated before, love keeps us dancing, sex instigates, and friendship is the reward.
I've stopped dancing, because the love is terrible.
But sex will instigate again.
As for my reward.... well I've been rewarded several times.
But I have as of yet found that pot of gold.
Perhaps I never will.

posted by F.G. Shaw @ 10:44 AM