It’s been said that love and death both come unannounced, but unfortunately, only one of them is inevitable. While death is certain, love is not – and if there ever was a day that exemplified that statement, then today was it. A friend had a death in the family, while I said goodbye to yet another guy in my so-called love life. While they were both imminent, there was one clear distinction between the two losses: soul.
When someone dies, we’re taught to believe that their soul has left their body. So with the passing of a loved one, does that mean, you’ve also lost your soul mate? Soul mate. Two little words, one big concept – one that I never quite thought about. It’s hard enough finding a guy that sticks around for more than a month, let alone finding one that’s supposedly meant to last all eternity. With each relationship that ends, I become less and less of a believer of this elusive rosy theory. Believing in it means that until I find this mystery guy, out there somewhere in this big ol’ universe, I will forever remain just a lost soul. And I’m too much of an optimist to believe in such daunting things.
Things with the recent bachelor #34592 didn’t work out (yes, despite the “magical” first date as gushed about below). Cause of death: lack of spark. Shocking, I know – considering that’s been the #1 reason with most of the guys I’ve recently dated. But it made me wonder today – is it me? Is it them? Which one out of us is to be blamed for “us” not working out? I don’t know. I can just leave it at "we didn't click," or I can sit here and do a post-mortem analysis by dissecting each spoken word, and replaying each date under a microscope – but why bother? Everyone wishes for a quick easy death – and it was just that.
We’re all destined to die some day, but not all of us are meant to fall in love. Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live. And if I keep that flicker of hope inside of me alive, then I’m certain that I’ll find that someone out there who may not be my soul mate – but he can be my permanent roommate – that someone I share my bed, my secrets, my dreams, and my life with…
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
Mixing Business with Pleasure
Office romance – it’s one of those taboo situations that we all try to avoid. Try – yes, avoid – not so much. It’s a temptation that looms around us like a shadow in the darkness. But no matter how hard you try to fight it, your feelings are bound to submerge from the shallow murky waters. It’s to be expected I suppose when you devote 40+ hours of your week either working with or for these people… somewhere along the line, a line gets blurred, things get read between the line…and before you know it, a line gets crossed. Often times, as wrong as it may be, we press forward instead of pressing pause – maybe because there’s an element of excitement, fear, and surprise that comes with the possibility of meeting someone unassuming and undeniable – that someone who you’ve tried to avoid… that someone who was right before your very own eyes.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Fifty First Dates
I once heard some incredulous fact about how people tend to make judgments based on first impressions within the first 15 seconds of meeting someone. I think it takes me 60 seconds alone just to get people to pronounce my name correctly, let alone get them to evaluate me accurately. But despite my cynicism, I’m inclined to somewhat agree when it comes to matters of the heart. As soon as you meet someone new, you instinctively decide and categorize the respective party into one of the following:
1) no way – “you don’t have a shot”
2) maybe – “sure, I’ll give you a chance”
3) hellz ya – “where have you been?”
In my experience of exploring the male species in this wilderness, I have had many moments that began with one of the above reactions. And ironically enough, I’ve been wrong nine out of ten times – hence why I’ve stopped having any major expectations when a guys asks me out on a date. It’s rare that I get nervous or even excited about a first date, because after a while, you fall into a rhythm and you realize which ones are a waste of time – rather than the time of your life. But last night was different; the night began with a sense of trepidation and ended in simple perfection. Looking back at the past couple of years, it feels as if I’ve been on fifty first dates, but for the first time last night, I thought… I’d rather have a date like this fifty times, every time – because if the first felt this great, I don’t want to imagine it being the last.
(And in case you're wondering, the answer is #3).
1) no way – “you don’t have a shot”
2) maybe – “sure, I’ll give you a chance”
3) hellz ya – “where have you been?”
In my experience of exploring the male species in this wilderness, I have had many moments that began with one of the above reactions. And ironically enough, I’ve been wrong nine out of ten times – hence why I’ve stopped having any major expectations when a guys asks me out on a date. It’s rare that I get nervous or even excited about a first date, because after a while, you fall into a rhythm and you realize which ones are a waste of time – rather than the time of your life. But last night was different; the night began with a sense of trepidation and ended in simple perfection. Looking back at the past couple of years, it feels as if I’ve been on fifty first dates, but for the first time last night, I thought… I’d rather have a date like this fifty times, every time – because if the first felt this great, I don’t want to imagine it being the last.
(And in case you're wondering, the answer is #3).
Sunday, April 6, 2008
When Rubber Meets the Road
Location, location, location. Any real estate agent – or common sense – will tell you that location dictates the price of the property. But what people or logic don’t often tell you is how location also dictates the fate of relationships; more than changing the address on an envelope, it changes you and the dynamics of friendships.
Last week, three different cities, all located hundreds and thousands of miles away, distanced three of my friends from a place I had grown accustomed to calling their home: the tri-state area. There’s the Philly friend who will be moving to Bean town Boston by the end of this year. Then there’s the local Jersey friend who’s moving to ritzy LA in a month. And finally the NYC friend who is moving to Tokyo faster than you can say Mitsubishi. I’ve known all of them for a couple of years now, and shared unforgettable moments with each of them. And although I never considered them to be the closest of friends, something triggered inside of me when they told me about the new place they’ll be calling home. It made me realize… we’re adults… how did this happen? And how do we make it stop?
As happy and proud as I am for the strides they’ve made in their respective careers, a part of me wants to hold them back. I just want to keep everyone at bay and continue pretending that the status quo hasn’t really shifted at all. Yet I’m forced to face reality as I share the last supper, throw the farewell party, and wave goodbye to each one of them… one by one.
I asked one of them if he will stay in Tokyo permanently, and even though he said he doesn’t know, it unnerves me because we take comfort in the possibilities that come with the unknown. He may hate it and move back, or he could fall madly in love and settle there forever. Granted, the pendulum can swing either way, but right now… the only direction destiny is taking him is two continents and an ocean away from me. I guess it’s nice to know that no matter where life takes you, the ones you love, are just a call, email, and a plane ride away.
Ironically enough, I was scheduled to fly out the day after they all shocked me with their big news. Let me tell you – nothing is quite saddening as sitting at the airport wondering how this is the very place that both unites and divides people. This is where people come to venture off into the world – be it near or far. This is where people come to go to a place they call home. This is the place where people shed tears and embrace closely one last time. This is the place where people jump into the arms of their lovers. All the ironies in the world, reside under this one roof.
Later that day, as I was sitting idly on the plane, looking out the window into the bright horizon, I wondered about what my friends will think as their flight approaches their destinations. Home sweet home? Shit, where am I? You look out below and see sparkling water, enormous buildings, and wonder how soon enough… you’ll be among them – perhaps seamlessly… perhaps not. Whatever your fears may be, as soon as that rubber meets the runway, it all comes to a standstill and you hear the attendant over the speakers, “Welcome, we have arrived…”
When I finally returned from my trip, and was waiting (and waiting and waiting) at the baggage claim, it occurred to me how the carousel is quite analogous to our lives. (Yep, here comes another wacky analogy). We stand there, waiting for something to appear – something we can claim as our own, hold, carry, and be gone with it. Yet we see others get it first, and wonder when will it be my turn? When will I get what I want? But unlike the conveyor belt, life isn’t guaranteed to deliver us anything – only the things we’re destined for, and the things we work hard towards. And I believe that if work is done right – it not only opens up new windows of opportunities, it can open up the sky for you.
Last week, three different cities, all located hundreds and thousands of miles away, distanced three of my friends from a place I had grown accustomed to calling their home: the tri-state area. There’s the Philly friend who will be moving to Bean town Boston by the end of this year. Then there’s the local Jersey friend who’s moving to ritzy LA in a month. And finally the NYC friend who is moving to Tokyo faster than you can say Mitsubishi. I’ve known all of them for a couple of years now, and shared unforgettable moments with each of them. And although I never considered them to be the closest of friends, something triggered inside of me when they told me about the new place they’ll be calling home. It made me realize… we’re adults… how did this happen? And how do we make it stop?
As happy and proud as I am for the strides they’ve made in their respective careers, a part of me wants to hold them back. I just want to keep everyone at bay and continue pretending that the status quo hasn’t really shifted at all. Yet I’m forced to face reality as I share the last supper, throw the farewell party, and wave goodbye to each one of them… one by one.
I asked one of them if he will stay in Tokyo permanently, and even though he said he doesn’t know, it unnerves me because we take comfort in the possibilities that come with the unknown. He may hate it and move back, or he could fall madly in love and settle there forever. Granted, the pendulum can swing either way, but right now… the only direction destiny is taking him is two continents and an ocean away from me. I guess it’s nice to know that no matter where life takes you, the ones you love, are just a call, email, and a plane ride away.
Ironically enough, I was scheduled to fly out the day after they all shocked me with their big news. Let me tell you – nothing is quite saddening as sitting at the airport wondering how this is the very place that both unites and divides people. This is where people come to venture off into the world – be it near or far. This is where people come to go to a place they call home. This is the place where people shed tears and embrace closely one last time. This is the place where people jump into the arms of their lovers. All the ironies in the world, reside under this one roof.
Later that day, as I was sitting idly on the plane, looking out the window into the bright horizon, I wondered about what my friends will think as their flight approaches their destinations. Home sweet home? Shit, where am I? You look out below and see sparkling water, enormous buildings, and wonder how soon enough… you’ll be among them – perhaps seamlessly… perhaps not. Whatever your fears may be, as soon as that rubber meets the runway, it all comes to a standstill and you hear the attendant over the speakers, “Welcome, we have arrived…”
When I finally returned from my trip, and was waiting (and waiting and waiting) at the baggage claim, it occurred to me how the carousel is quite analogous to our lives. (Yep, here comes another wacky analogy). We stand there, waiting for something to appear – something we can claim as our own, hold, carry, and be gone with it. Yet we see others get it first, and wonder when will it be my turn? When will I get what I want? But unlike the conveyor belt, life isn’t guaranteed to deliver us anything – only the things we’re destined for, and the things we work hard towards. And I believe that if work is done right – it not only opens up new windows of opportunities, it can open up the sky for you.
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