Serious Moonlight

Relationships... are hard.

And there really wasn't any other way to make that sound any more accurate or profound.

They are hard. And like anything that's hard, they tend to give you a hard time.

But I suppose that's the first thing we all have to understand. That relationships are hard.

And when you GET that, that's when you can deal with it.

......

Of course there are still alot of other things I don't get.

Like... I don't get how you can love someone one minute and completely loathe them the next... or even love and loathe them in the very same minute... like your mind is in this instantaneous schizophrenic break of sorts... as if the molecules in your brain actually TOOK SIDES... as fast as your heart pumps blood to all the gazillion arteries in your body... you want to hold them, kiss them, squeeze them until you passed out... then wish you never met them at all.

Or how you can fall out of love with someone when you can almost swear that it was only yesterday you were absolutely swooning over this person... ready to die for this person... all the romantic little enzymes seeping from your pores like pus.

Pus. An overproduction of white blood cells trying to fight off an infection.

Love is an infection.

*shrugs*

......

I caught this movie on HBO one random day called "Serious Moonlight." It's with Meg Ryan and Timothy Hutton and it was about how they were this married couple and how Timothy Hutton was gonna leave Meg Ryan for a younger woman (Kristin Bell) so Meg Ryan decides to tie him up and hold him hostage inside their house until he falls back in love with her.

It was the darndest thing. She baked him his favorite cookies and made him watch their wedding video and look at their wedding photos... she insisted even after he told her that he didn't love her and that she was ugly and that he loved someone else. There was even this part in the movie when Kristin Bell goes to the house and asks Meg Ryan where he is and Meg Ryan tells her that she knows about the affair and that it was ok, she just needed to clear up a few things with her husband but that she could have him afterwards. The moment Kristin Bell's character leaves, Meg's character goes to the porch and breaks down... wailing and crying... like the whole world had just suddenly crashed right on top of her stupid, foolish little head.

It made her vomit.

I thought about how I would feel if that ever happened to me.

I'd probably vomit too.

(I don't wanna reveal the rest of the movie in case any of you decide to check it out.)

But yeah. I guess... I'd vomit if Paolo ever told me I was ugly and that he didn't love me. Even after all the other times I had threatened to leave him. Even when I was sure I'd convinced myself that I hated him.

Maybe sometimes (excluding the cases where domestic violence and abuse and chronic cheating is concerned), when times get hard, all you need to do is remind yourselves of that time when you were really really in love. When you had pus coming out of your pores type love.

......

With the "hype" of my "up-and-coming" wedding (the quotation marks indicate I use the terms loosely... or simply, for lack of a better description)... I've been thinking about marriage and its certainties and guarantees and what not.

Like... how does one know they're ready to get married or that they should marry the person they're with.

So I googled it. (Call it cold feet or whatever but I'm not about to NOT utilize the world wide frikkin' web to help me gain some perspective. It's my f*cking life we're talking about here.)

And all the things I've read always answered some half-assed "You just know" type shit... like, what the fuck is that supposed to mean???? I mean, really. Next to God coming to me in a dream or Him actually walking up to me and telling me who "the one" is... one can never be all that sure, right?

So I asked my friends and we had a dialogue and she said... I guess you know you love someone when you know there's something you can say that would hurt them but you don't.

Now I talk alot of shit.

But I don't think I've ever held my tongue more.

I dunno.

So... how do you know, right?

More importantly, would it even make a difference if we did know?

Right now, all I know is that I'd vomit if he left me.