Shot down

All’s fair in love and war. Love and War. Comparing the realities of a divorce to the realities of the war on terror and 9/11 seem fitting unfortunately. The brown skin on a banana tasting just as bad as that old peach. Soldiers of love and war can be paralleled too. You both become accustomed to things which would be considered grotesque and horrific in the real world. Fortunately, I’m on the sidelines of both having not personally experienced a divorce or a war. But I admire people who are able to make it through both. A close friend of mine is currently experiencing the insanity of a divorce and I admire how she is handling it. I have had more than my fair share of relationship problems and can attest to them not really measuring up to the cruelty that I’ve witnessed surrounding the divorce. And of course I idolize the military people in my family that I grew up hearing fantastical stories about.

I do remember breaking up with a girl one time. It was a very short relationship and it was much better for the both of us that we broke up. But this event, for me, was the cupid equivalent of defusing an explosive. I tried to let her down carefully and reasonably, but the roller coaster was just beginning. For every logical move I made, she castled and weaved her way back in. Every time I thought she understood and the coast was clear, she would bring up something else. I tried everything short of straight out rudeness to end the two-week “relationship”, but she didn’t want to listen. I started to realize after 40 minutes of this ordeal that I too had subjected a woman to the same resistance when she tried to break up with me a few years previous. It’s funny. I refocus on the person that I was back then and the things I didn’t know, and I cringe. I suppose the heart wants what it wants, but I’ve learned to let things go now much more easily. There’s a certainty about embracing the emptiness and finality of a breakup. There’s a sting and a sour taste to it all, but the back and forth alternative is much less fun. My experiences after a few long term relationships and long-term breakups have taught me lessons difficult to pass on through words alone.

So I recently mutually ended a relationship with someone who to me was “the one”. For her, I wasn’t what she had in mind. And though we both really loved each other, I knew that if there was a doubt, then there was no doubt. Hard to get over and I won’t go into the details here. But only so much self-analysis will reveal anything of use. After a while, you have to dust yourself off and get back on cupid’s back, so to speak.

So I finally asked out a girl that I had worked with on a job a few weeks back. Such a coward, I took almost two weeks to get back over there and ask her out. A friend of mine said that I was pretty forward with asking girls out. But when it comes to these matters, my mirror is foggy and I’m uncertain of how I appear or sound. She said four month boyfriend and I’m back home early tonight. Oh well. But at least I asked her. She was great about it. She almost seemed rather practiced at turning down invitations to lunch and such. It was almost a pleasure to be turned down by her. But I suppose I was mostly happy to talk for real with someone I find a little thrilling to be around. You never know what’s behind the small talk. I meet a lot of people through my job and meeting hundreds of new people all the time, I find myself wanting to have real conversations instead of engaging in discussions about the weather or the Cubs game that I missed or politics that I want to avoid. And I think once you ask someone out, even if they say no, the conversation cuts straight down to the surface and you start to really learn about people. I guess as someone who shoots portraits for a living, I want to get down to that nitty gritty, the personality behind the personality.

I don’t know, blog. I don’t need anyone else to define my life. I am pretty secure in who I am, I guess. But it certainly helps to have someone around that reinforces who you are and points out that you have mustard on the crick of your mouth.