Adele and saying goodbye

13th of February 2016

“Someone like you”. This song, like many others was assigned. Is assigned. So assigned that the last time I saw him, the shuffle player decided to play it right on time for our final hug. And even if we see each other again in this lifetime, that was still our final goodbye.

And today I’m also saying goodbye to something. To a fundamental part of me. To my previous view on love.

My first definition of love was the impossible. I was around 17 and I believed perfect love to be one that only lasts for a very short period of time, is intense, touches your deepest corners, changes you fundamentally – for the better – and then leaves you living all your life longing for this state of perfection. That is because, of course, you would need to be apart from your love in order not to allow the mundane and profane to alter the perfection. And I had it. And it was perfect. It was perfect because it was what I wanted then. And because I am a better person today because of him.

Then reading Patul lui Procust and thinking about the intellectual’s view on absolute love, I thought this should be it. I figured that the new definition should be selflessness and the unconditional. And if I managed to love someone like that, it would mean that I would have felt it. The perfect love. And I am grateful for having had the opportunity. I am not even sorry it took me many years to understand that I was wrong. Actually, it’s not that I was wrong. It’s just that one can never be happy while loving unconditionally. I didn’t know that then.

Some years passed and without any particular definition of love. But these days I’m in search for a new definition. Reading some Plato.  Trying to understand what I want to experience in this life and how I really want to feel. Now, one thing led to another and I just stumbled upon “Someone like you” again.

Because it’s a motif now. How else would I say goodbye?

I am saying goodbye to being a romantic. And it’s a process. It will take time. And part of me will always fight it. Being a romantic is how I know how to be. I’ve been that my whole life and I had deep emotional experiences because of it. And I was happy in my misery. I always preferred to feel something, anything, than being numb and not having any feelings. And even now, I’m tempted to think that. I find it very sad to listen to love songs and not being able to relate. I’m not in love, I’m not suffering from a break-up, I’m just fine. But that also means that I don’t feel anything.

I’m becoming pragmatic, or classical, if you want. That’s my new definition. And it’s not an easy process. I always believed in “the one”. Soul mates. Perfect fit. And these stories brought me immense joy. Also immense sorrow. There was this part of me that always believed that being unhappy is sexy. That happy people are boring. And that all the juice of life comes from this sadness. I don’t anymore. Being happy is good. It’s fun. Less romantic. Doesn’t help much with writing either. But I prefer it now.

So yes, I’m saying goodbye to my romanticism. It’s gonna be an interesting ride to try and find the fun in being compatible, in having a relationship with a person that is right for you. I mean, can you, the happy in a relationship people tell me where do you find the excitement anymore? I’m sure there is. I’ve heard of people happily being in long term relationships. And I truly want to experience the balance of one. Just for the sake of comparison. Or just for the sake of experience. Maybe I will come back to my romanticism after that. Who knows. Maybe not.

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