Introductions

We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It’s easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven’t even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.
– Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story by Chuck Klosterman via TNR

Damn.

I mean, damn.

I don’t necessarily believe in the theory of The One – the idea that each person has one match out there floating around the universe somewhere. However, this may be the closest definition of “one true love” that I can put stock in, because it involves no cosmic aligning or divine intervention. I believe the relationships we build are 85% due to timing. I think they depend as much on basic compatibility as they do passion (and those that don’t, sink) and they all – including those that sink – count.

They count because they shape what you do and do not look for in the next partner you allow into your life. It’s easy after the fact to take those things that raked your nerves – maybe he smoked, maybe she nagged, maybe they spent too much time in front of the TV – and dump them into your “Never again will I date a person who…” list. Somewhere down the line though, maybe subconsciously, you consider the things you loved about them. Maybe his sense of humor, her bookworm tendencies, the way they could make you laugh without trying. Those things eventually compile what you do look for in a mate, amassed into a collection of standards that define what/who you want, until you have a near-complete personality map by which to judge each potential date.

Now this idea comes along - this theory of one person blowing those ideals out of the water and single-handedly resetting that standard that may have taken years of love and loss to create? It is new to me, but I think… I fear… ol’ Chuck is right. How eloquently honest. How eerily accurate. How fucking unfair.

Unfair, because what of the lovers who follow that person? Not that I believe life to be fair, but this idea – this truth – puts so many of us at a horrible disadvantage, one that we are apparently never to completely overcome. The worst part of this: I am now watching the cycle play out in others’ lives. I wonder to myself if it is a matter of cannot or will not as I see people who let the pain of losing that person hinder their view of the world, who do not see the loveable qualities of other people for the haze of their grief, who may never experience that “resetting” again because they continue to let that person define how they feel about everyone else. They let them win.

Hell, I have been that person. Unknowingly, as he says, I set the template for a guy I dated eight (Nine? Maybe more?) years ago. I was completely ignorant to this until he contacted me recently; he is now married and lives 3+ hours from Austin, but is still in love with the girlfriend that I was back then. All the things she was, the things she did for him, the plans she had for their future are the things he wants in (and apparently misses from) his relationships now. This realization, while completely inappropriate, both flattered and frightened me.

Perhaps it startled me to learn that I had unwittingly shaped that part of someone else’s life and left such an enduring impression on their psyche. It caused a mild panic as it occurred to me that he may not be the only one - Eeek, who else have I broken?!? It is also scary to think that each of us has this power, given the right timing. Someone could – according to this author, would - inadvertently shape my thinking that way. How unfair! I want to define love on my own terms, and not let some asshole who happens to be around when I’m feeling particularly amorous muss that up for me!

Then it hit me, just what frightened me the most: no one person has reset my standards, no one has defined love for me.

For most sane folk, this should come with some relief or uplifting sentiment, but on the contrary it triggers in me a sense of disappointment. I want to be broken open, taken by surprise, my priorities rearranged, my standards reset. What's been missing? Am I not open to loving that way?? It’s a risk I want to take; but then, I suppose that’s another post, another day.