Any Valentine’s-Day-themed post needs at least a mention of my…um…suspect taste in men. When I was young(er), I would always fall for boys who were “cultured,” boys who liked French cuisine and Ayn Rand books and shopping, boys who were actors and modern dancers. To illustrate:
My first two boyfriends, right there.
Of course, I got older and decided I should only really fall for the ones who were unavailable, or crazy, or both. That was fun.
But there is something to be said for feeling things that intensely–even when they were intensely bad. I miss the feeling of having a crush on someone. I miss feeling: in the last few years, I’ve realized that anyone I want to start a relationship with will be (given my track record) either suspect, a crazy, or unavailable, emotionally or otherwise, so I don’t let myself get very excited about it.
But I’m sure I’ll be full of feeling again, misguided and fabulous and exhausting. I have to remember this quote*:
“A lively understandable spirit once entertained you.
It will come again.
Be still.
Wait.”
*Theodore Roethke, “The Lost Son.” Not about romantic relationships at all. But still very good to quote. (That’s the nice thing about literature.)