E=MC what hell?!

I think for today, I am going to give you, my wonderful readers, a lesson in physics. I propose the following:

An object is travelling on a track, and its velocity steadily increases. The object continues down the track (an object in motion tends to stay in motion) until a brick wall is placed in its path. the object, having reached an 80mph velocity, crashes.

Granted, my physics knowledge leaves a lot to be desired. However, one could take this same scenario and apply it to romantic relationships.

Object: Individual stupid enough to get involved.

Velocity: speed (at which relationship progresses - frequency of phone calls, extent of feelings involved, trust, etc.)

Brick wall: the inevitable end of it all.

The whole idea of a car on a track within an enclosed environment, where no one gets hurt, isn't all that frightening. When the experiment is over, you simply pick up the pieces and move on. No harm, no foul. This is not the way it happens with relationships, quasi or full-blown.

The person riding the car (unless they are incredibly astute at managing hormonal attachment to another human being) has no control over how quickly the car picks up speed. More often than not, the once level track becomes steeper and steeper as we fight to maintain our grip on a heavily greased steering wheel. We grit our teeth and brace ourselves because we know that the wall is right up ahead, and it's going to hurt like hell once we hit it...

Once we do, how we choose to pick up the pieces is a completely different story. Some of us opt to wallow in our own self-pity; some of us take up arts and crafts; while others (specifically, me), continue to toy with the idea of screwing the steering wheel back on, backing away from the wall, and trying to drive around it. Ahem...this never works. An object in motion does tend to stay in motion, but a car without wheels and with an emotionally unstable driver never gets very far.

The lesson to be learned - by the time a relationship ends, it has achieved its terminal velocity (the maximum speed at which it will travel) and it's just waiting to hit that wall. When this terminal velocity is reached varies - 3 dates in, 5 years in - it all depends on the couple driving.

Ironically, when put into these terms, a relationship is just like physics - it sucks.

I have maintained a certain air of cynicism throught my various posts; and it's a cynicism I am incredibly proud of. However, I've realized that those type of convictions can only be successfully maintained when one does not have outside factors seeking to fan the internal flame of romantic attachment.

Let me explain. As I've written these blog posts, I've maintained a happy distance between myself and 'love'. It was easy to fault individuals for feeling emotionally elated over having met a possible life partner because, truth be told, I never had to worry about experiencing that myself. When you spend your evenings watching "Parks and Recreation" drinking Sleepytime tea, it is easy to feel high and mighty and almost (I am very sorry to say) somewhat superior to the poor saps who sit at home nursing a broken heart.

Well, ladies and gentlmen, I have realized that, sadly, I am completely susceptible to the blind optimism that affects so many. In fact, I am just as entrenched in the mucky muck of love and devotion as the rest of you.

As of late, (and I will refrain from describing the exact situation for right now), I have had stars in my eyes. I have believed that emotional unavailability could switch if one fostered trust and simply waited for the other individual to get with the program and start wanting what they had initially said they didn't want.

News Flash! That never happens. Because I had so deeply cared for this person, I had waited for that magical switch to happen...I read into every. single. action - a caring effort to sweep the hair away from my eyes, a phone call to see how my day went, an impromptu visit to the grocery store. I became the most inept detective ever has I attempted to piece these meaningless pieces of evidence together and tried to create a relationship out of it. Needless to say, it never worked.

And then, even after confessing my feelings and receiving not even a closure-inducing 'fuck you' but instead, painful silence (which is worse), I had hoped that maybe things just needed to sink in for this person. Maybe...they just needed more time. Again, I was wrong.

So, what have I learned during this entire thing? Apparently, nothing; but also, everything. I have learned that my initial belief that love is bullshit certainly held true. It is oftentimes uneven, painful, and insanity inducing and always, never worth the goddamn trouble. I think I will stick to my Celestial Seasonings evenings with Leslie Knope and Tom Haverford before I ever allow this sick feeling to take over me again. That's actually the perfect way to describe it - SICK. Not only are the physical aftereffects unpleasant (sleeplessness, exhaustion, perpetual stomachache) but you also feel slightly insane as your ability to construct logical equations collapses before you. So, wait, (you say to yourself), A + B doesn't necessarily equal C? Intellectual and physical compatibility + mutual respect doesn't equal at least the possibility of a relationship? What...the...(insert expletive).

Yours,
Love sick.

It made me angry

Hello readers. This is your uncommitted blogger visiting you from the great beyond - also known as the land of self-pity. Do you know this land? I myself am on the corner of self-loathing and 'I can't believe I'm here again' but I just wanted to touch base with you guys and let you know of a movie that really pissed me off this weekend...well, two of them. The first movie: 'Someone Like You' starring Ashley Judd, the ever-studly Hugh Jackman and Greg Kinnear. The plot in a nutshell: Girl meets boy (Greg Kinnear). Girl falls in love with boy. Boy hacks her heart to pieces. Girl loses faith in men and goes on a personal crusade to show what liars and hacks men are. Girl gets fooled by same boy again. Girl gets Hugh Jackman (eventually). This is just like real life, right? Right - except the girl never gets a Hugh Jackman. Instead, she winds up settling for the slightly overweight, slightly balding version of the man she really wanted just so that she no longer has to be alone. Also, Girl has crazy, zany, single friend played by none other than Marisa Tomei. This friend is also constantly screwed over by guys and guess what? She doesn't find her happy ending. Nope. She is left in spinsterhood - left forever to do yoga and hold out hope for that one true love without actually ever finding it. Instead, her doe-eyed, unremarkable friend finds love...in the form of Hugh fucking Jackman! What the hell is going on here? The second movie to piss me off: 'Eat Pray Love'. The plot goes a little something like this (I've never read the book so I'm obviously simplifying) - Girl gets married to perfect man. Girl is tragically unhappy. Girl falls in love with young, sexy actor type. Loses herself...AGAIN. Breaks up with him and goes on soul-searching quest to Italy, India, and Bali where she finds love in the form of Javier Bardem - tall, dark, handsome, brilliant, and sweet (he loves his kids...awwww). Girl freaks out and won't get on boat with gorgeous man. Girl goes to her little toothless friend the medicine man who tells her to chase her true love. She does. She and sexy man wind up on a boat together, forever... Frankly, I find it insulting that we women are supposed to believe this shit. You get your heart broken and all of a sudden your womanizing, man-whore roommate wants to really try with you - yea, the girl he once loved destroyed him, but you're worth it. He will happily give up easy, unattached sex for your ability to cry at the drop of a hat. OR, you are a neurotic woman who is NEVER happy but all of a sudden you find this sweet, adventurous man who is willing to traverse the world with you because, well, your neuroses are just that much fun. Bullshit. Thanks. Sincerely yours, Angry