As I listened to Paul, a twenty-something friend of a friend, ramble about how difficult it is being single, I zoned out for a few minutes. Are people staying in relationships because there may not be anything else suitable available?
Like the real estate market in Ireland, the dating market is experiencing a dry spell. Investing in a new relationship, which requires years of hard work, is like moving into a second-hand house. First you have to pay stamp duty. In relationships, this is equivalent to splashing out on those novelty beginning-of-relationship gifts. You have to strip the wallpaper--just like removing the remains of your new significant other's previous relationship. Only then can you start to redecorate to your taste, because like a second hand house, your new significant other comes with some traits you know you can't live with.
"You're so lucky to be in a relationship", claimed Paul. I suddenly felt like I'd bought my way into the market mere months before it had taken a price hike--before a relationship was unattainable. Selling now would be a risk, right? It's not like I'm unhappy in my relationship anyway. Like the 3-bed dormer bungalow I live in, it's comfortable, warm and despite the fact that I feel suffocated from time-to-time, there's a certain sentimentality that comes with it.
According to Paul, no-one wants to commit these days. This confirmed my ideology that the dating game is just like the property market. As soon as things slow down, and properties of interest are nowhere to be seen, people freeze. No-one wants to commit to something, have to pay for it and maintain the upkeep, only to realise that they've made a bad purchase years later when the market picks up.
Unfortunately, no-one knows how long the dry spell will last, and so some will move away, in hope of better opportunities overseas, just like 1980's Ireland. Some will remain, and rent, never truly making an investment, but rather buying time, and a temporary roof, while a decision is being formed.
Whatever you decide to do, always keep one eye on the real estate market, and the other on potential significant other's, for you never know who else has an appointment for a viewing.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Sunday, January 14, 2007
The Right Road
On Thursday morning I set about my day, took the bus, listened to John Mayer's Heavier Things, picked up the morning newspaper, took my morning coffee and walked the walk to class. It was like any other day, or so I thought. I would go to the gym after classes had finished, certainly.
My day took its first turn upon second period of the day being cancelled. It's amazing, I thought, how your day can change just like that, leaving you to make a quick decision as to what you will do with your newly free time. Life is just like that--twists and turns in the road, and every so often, a set of crossroads. There is always a number of options at these times, and ultimately, as adults, we make the decision as to which road we will take by ourselves.
Decision-making can be tough, and sometimes I wish there was an instructor to inform me of the difficulties I might run into along each road, to allow me to weigh up the pros and cons of each. No such instructor exists - except for the one in our own minds. Sometimes we will regret the decisions that we have made in the past, but as everyone knows, mistakes must be made to learn from them. But who is to say which road is right and which one is wrong?
I decided, the road to the cinema was the one that I would take. My college friend and I decided that we would indulge in a day time movie, and what better than the new Renee Zellweger. The mutual feeling was that this was most certainly the right road to take for the day. Following the movie, we embarked on some window-shopping, wondering why, at sale time, do purchases seem so much less special.
The attention of the sales clerk is not on you, but on the piles of sweaters needing re-folding, and the small but meaningful details--tissue wrap and ribbon--have all been ignored, and in their place you will find your purchases in a red bag with 'SALE' emblazoned on either side, which is anything but meaningful.
Following our shopping experience, I pondered my next hour. I decided, I would miss my usual bus home--for what had been usual about the day?--and visit the gym instead. After my workout, I shared a moment of small (well, microscopic), chat with a fellow member in the changing room. It seemed for a moment, as if we might be friends. It seemed for a moment, as if it might have been fate.
That day, I learned to trust my instinct, and to always do what feels right to me, for it might just lead me down the right road.
My day took its first turn upon second period of the day being cancelled. It's amazing, I thought, how your day can change just like that, leaving you to make a quick decision as to what you will do with your newly free time. Life is just like that--twists and turns in the road, and every so often, a set of crossroads. There is always a number of options at these times, and ultimately, as adults, we make the decision as to which road we will take by ourselves.
Decision-making can be tough, and sometimes I wish there was an instructor to inform me of the difficulties I might run into along each road, to allow me to weigh up the pros and cons of each. No such instructor exists - except for the one in our own minds. Sometimes we will regret the decisions that we have made in the past, but as everyone knows, mistakes must be made to learn from them. But who is to say which road is right and which one is wrong?
I decided, the road to the cinema was the one that I would take. My college friend and I decided that we would indulge in a day time movie, and what better than the new Renee Zellweger. The mutual feeling was that this was most certainly the right road to take for the day. Following the movie, we embarked on some window-shopping, wondering why, at sale time, do purchases seem so much less special.
The attention of the sales clerk is not on you, but on the piles of sweaters needing re-folding, and the small but meaningful details--tissue wrap and ribbon--have all been ignored, and in their place you will find your purchases in a red bag with 'SALE' emblazoned on either side, which is anything but meaningful.
Following our shopping experience, I pondered my next hour. I decided, I would miss my usual bus home--for what had been usual about the day?--and visit the gym instead. After my workout, I shared a moment of small (well, microscopic), chat with a fellow member in the changing room. It seemed for a moment, as if we might be friends. It seemed for a moment, as if it might have been fate.
That day, I learned to trust my instinct, and to always do what feels right to me, for it might just lead me down the right road.
Saturday, January 6, 2007
The Warning Light
People say that all good things must come to an end. I imagine this to be the most upsetting part of life. On the other hand, I have a strong feeling that if the things that are so good in our lives didn’t come to an end; they would more than likely turn to shit in the long run. We would appreciate things less, almost certainly.
Like listening to the last track of your favourite album, knowing deep down, but not acknowledging, that there is no more; like the last kiss with a lover; and like the last breath of life, if you know that this will be the last, sadness is felt, but history is acknowledged, and while on many levels you don’t want to leave at all, you are aware that you must, for something else is waiting—another love, another life, or more simply, your new favourite album.
Another thing you hear people saying is how you need to work at a relationship. I think it’s fair to say, in general, the opening months of a relationship don’t require an awful lot of work beyond “the chase”. The rest is games—whether you’re playing hard to get, or downright getting to know each other.
It is in the later days that the work begins. Is this tiring work a signal of unsuitability, or is it something that is experienced—frequently—in even the most suited relationships? Either way, I find myself asking, how much should you have to work at a relationship? Shouldn’t there be a warning light on my body somewhere indicating an overload? I wouldn’t want to actually drive myself mentally or physically into the ground just to confirm my hardship to keep a difficult relationship alive.
Giving up feels like a weakness for most people, but perhaps, it is an achievement of sorts. We can acknowledge that we tried. We should also realise that we have our strengths, and we have our weaknesses, and ultimately, we can’t win every time.
Like an album that fails after track 13, that could have been a work of art if left to this many tracks, a relationship that is forced along will leave a less fond memory upon it’s finale.
And no matter how far into the future we make plans for ourselves and our significant other, if the warning light appears—a holiday, a mutually owned dog, or a house in the most perfect leafy avenue—won't save what we are known to call “us”.
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