February 12, 2007

In Honor of St. Valentine's Decapitation

I do not understand how the anniversary of St. Valentine getting beheaded transformed into the mushy-sappy-annoying holiday that was designed to really, really irk this bitter divorced woman. I'm not depressed about the holiday. It doesn't bother me to be single at this time of year. Actually it is a lot better to be single than to be married to a narcissistic psychotic who spends money like water and thinks my feelings reflect his feelings (still does, and the divorce has been final for over two months now). Also, if I were dating, which I'm not ready to do yet (yes, I know, I did in the last year of my marriage, but that wasn't real: it wasn't fictional, although some stories were fictionalized, but it wasn't a search for a real substantive relationship), I could have bumped into someone even worse than the Insane Ex. (example). Proof again that it takes a heck of a man to be better than none. The prior to examples are of course, much, much worse than none.

So, love, and the pursuit thereof, which is what makes the world go around, seems to be the raison d'etre for celebrating the severing of Valentine's head and torso.

I do believe in love. Real love. The true love one feels for one's children of for one's best friend of over twenty years (yes, Innana, that means you). However, I firmly renounce romantic love. I don't renounce romance, sex, or desire. But I do renounce the idea of romantic love. It's balderdash.

Just writing about romantic love, even that briefly, has made me so bored and sleepy that I am now going to be asleep. I'll continue this tomorrow (really, later today), but even the thought ofromantic love is a soporific.

6 comments:

Kira said...

I'm not sure what you mean by renouncing romantic love. I have always felt that the Greeks had it right by dividing it into the four types (eros, philia, storge, and agape). Of course I love Alex, and of course I love him differently than I love my children, even though I live in Pickens County, SC (the county with the highest rate of incest in the state...woohoo!). I also love my very closest friends, like Lee, in a completely different way than I love Alex or my kids. I think the only way you're going to be able to convince me that romantic love is a farce is to redefine the term to mean something different from what it means to me. As I tell my kids in English 103, oftentimes the way to win an argument is through your definitions of the words...

lauritajuanitasanchez said...

Yeah! Romantic love! BOO! HISS!!!

I totally know where you are coming from, despite the recent upturn in my romantic life.

Innana1 said...

But we're not bitter.

The Fatalist said...

Erm...whats' love? Boo,hoo! ;-)

Prom said...

I don't really know anymore what it means when someone says I love you. When I hear it I'm often suspicious of their intent.

That said, I do believe in intimacy and in desire and in wanting someone, not as an object to fill up a void in your life but as the person they are.

I think that is good enough and worth putting some of myself into.

Foilwoman said...

Kira: I wasn't clear, obviously. I renounce the Western/modern U.S. movie concept of "romantic love" and falling in love as epitomized by demonstrations of love through annoying cards, giving hackneyed presents, and generally meeting societal standards that are stupid (such as a diamond engagement ring being necessary and such as such ring needing to be worth two months salary). I'll have to post more on this because my comment box is looking a bit overstuffed, and I have four more comments to read. More later.

Laurita: You enjoy yourself with the Brain. Remember, the Brain is the most important sexual organ, and you can tell him I said so.

Innana: I'm bitter. You're a divinity. Not the candy; a deity.

Bunny: It's a mystery, I guess.

Prom: That's it in a nutshell. Anyone can say anything. I'll take a complete absence of sweet nothings as a trade for someone who can actually fold laundry, balance a checkbook, and do so willingly to please me, not that I'd ever trust another person near my bank account, thank you very, very much. All the romantic indicators (buying nice presents and such) are not good indicators of a good partner. And training oneself to like those things is just training oneself to react to inaccurate data. Again, another post coming, as I'm going on too long.