Relationships

Relationships. We all grow up thinking we'll have one, and a good one at that - but, conversely, we've all heard that fifty percent of marriages end in divorce, and if we were to factor in the number of long-term non-marriage relationships that end in separation, the number would be much higher. Let's face it: if we're single and we've had at least one relationship, that means we're currently operating at a 100% 'failure rate'. Even if we cracked it at only the third or fourth attempt, that still puts our 'success rate' at only 20-25%. The statistics are kind of damning. And if you're a hip, still young, good looking single, as millions are, you're probably wondering if you'll ever find someone (in this world of millions of hip, good looking singles, just like you).

It's an interesting conundrum to consider: if statistics, our actual life experience, and the world around us tells us that happiness in a long-term relationship is unlikely and elusive, why do we believe in it so strongly? Why do we think we have it coming? Where does this idea come from? Do we blame fairytales and Hollywood, for all their happy-ever-afters? Or perhaps that one-in-a-thousand couple we know that do make it - who do 'live the dream' of "soulmates" and "truly adoring one another" - and therefore put into our heads not only the desire to have what they have, but also the notion that we deserve it too.

And yet: how often do we go beyond the question of the kind of person we want to be with, and ask instead the question, "am I the kind of person I want to be?" How often do we ask ourselves if we're truly in a position to attract that dream other we can spend the rest of our lives with, and if that's really what we deserve and are ready for?

Relationships are tricky. The older we get, and the more we refine our tastes and personalities, the smaller the pool we have to choose from. Our tolerance for others decreases, as well as our ability to make the necessary compromises that living closely with another requires. Maybe we've been single so long we've grown used to it, and ultimately find the presence of another, though welcome, an intrusion and, at times, an annoyance not worth the bother. And yet, we want another. Someone to share our thoughts and lives with. Someone to hold. Someone to laugh with, and to ease the pain.

And then: suddenly I wonder how this would read if I changed all the "we"s and "our"s to "I"s. To personalise it. To make it true to my experience. I mean, who am I speaking for, with these grand, sweeping collectives? How can I generalise? And what about all those who don't fit the criteria?

Am I really not just talking about myself, and a small selection of people I know who match what I feel?

Damn, it's hard to write this type of thing, when one has the kind of mind that also likes to try and think a little deeper. No wonder Elephant Journal or those other lightweight blogs have never published anything I've sent them (I've never sent them anything).

In any case: what was I saying? Something about something. Blah blah blah. I'm alone, and destined ever more to be so - not because of other people, but because...of me.

But at least I'm not alone in that.

Lol. ;)

...

What are the components of a relationship? What is it that needs to be in alignment in order to make them work?

Perhaps when we're young we don't think to ask questions like that: we go with immediate and obvious things, such as physical and sexual attraction, fun, and whether or not we feel "love" (whatever that is), and get an often enough dose of fireworks or butterflies.

Of course, when we get a bit older, we realise fireworks tend not to last too long and, pretty as butterflies are, we probably want more from a life partner than something lovely and fluttering to point our eyes at.

The last few years - well, the few years before I seem to have mostly forgotten about the idea of a relationship - I tended to think that having compatible lifestyles were the most important thing - which is not too far from my mother's advice of making it with someone who is first and foremost an excellent friend. Shared interests and outlook, et cetera. The rest, all being well, will follow.

But, still, there's more to it than that, right? There's...

Physical attraction
Sexual chemistry and compatibility
Intellectual connection
Shared sense of humour
How and where to live
Having or not having children
Ideas of raising them
Getting on with the other's family
Beliefs about work and money
Plans for the long-term and the future
Cultural compatibility
Psychological, energetic, and emotional connection
Commitment
Religious and/or spiritual beliefs
And probably lots more...

Is that making it unnecessarily complex? Or does that reflect something of the truth of the situation?

I mean, we want it all these days, right? Our partner is not just our bedrock, our foundation, the thing we build our lives on - how unromantic! - but also, surely, a great deal more: our prime source of entertainment; our shopping buddy; our dance/drinking partner; and the one who has to fulfill all our needs and whims, whether it's humanly possible or not (he jests).

I've thought about this a lot, about how unfair it seems that others want so much, when it appears so unrealistic. And I wonder about other times and places: about other, more traditional cultures, and about men from the past, like Einstein or Charles Darwin, who surely loved their wives, and had happy relationships, but didn't look to them for their all (eg, scientific and philosophic conversation and fulfillment). And yet...

It's like a bug, in my head and in the head of many others. That mental checklist, whether we're aware of it or not, and how perhaps even ticking 17 out of 21 boxes ain't quite enough...

...

If I could, I'd make a little grid - maybe 5x5 - and in each box write one now-laughable reason why someone might break up with someone, or not get with them in the first place (imagined or, more likely, otherwise), then I'd say, "Let's play relationship break-up bingo!" and offer prizes for anyone who could complete a line or even a full house (no one could get a full house, surely).

But, I can't: I'm on an iPhone 4 sitting under a mango tree, tapping away with my thumbs, just kind of seeing if, sans laptop, I can still satisfy my incurable need to transcribe the words of the invisible, ever-demanding bee that lives in my brain (if you know what I mean).

In other words: you'll have to use your imagination. Sorry. ;)

...

Why write all this? Why write all this now, when I don't really think about this stuff anymore. Tried it, you know, and don't seem to be very good at it. Mostly let it go.

And yet, the words are there, and the idea to share them here, and to see what happens.

Why, it can only be that "pesky bee", and reasons presently unknown; that's all. ;)