Circles of Communication

As I stood alone with everybody at a low-key leaving party of a friend of a friend, I got to thinking how there are many people I’ve met through the years, friends, lovers and perfect strangers, that I’ve had instantaneous connections with.

Most of my friends today were met through work environments where there was a shared interest. Did interests, age or cultural background have any real effect on the communication between people, I contemplated.

When interests are shared, a discussion is made easier due to the fact that both people are able to make contributions, and stimulate interest from the other person. You don’t need to know anything about each other, yet the conversation shared is enjoyed, and most importantly, it’s comfortable.

So then, is age an issue? Can you possibly enjoy a friendship, relationship or merely a conversation with someone who is years older, or younger, than yourself? Whilst taking into consideration that the age of someone often determines their history, the type of life and perhaps standard of life that they’ve led, and their feelings about society today, people cannot be defined by their age.

Just weeks earlier I sat at a dinner party at a table of nine. Two men and women aged in their 40s, a female in her 30s and two young, free, single 20-something women took their places. My connection with two of the 40-something women developed instantly and kept me entertained, if slightly surprised, for the duration of the evening. Why, out of everyone at the table, had my connection been made with these individuals and not the others?

I figured that I was interested in hearing what these people had to say. They had opinions, they had lives that interested me, and that interested themselves, and they weren’t afraid to talk about them. Details were of the utmost importance, and this was something that I could certainly relate to. I was stimulated.

Cultural backgrounds can bring individuals together in the same way interests do. When history and similarities in the environment we have grown up in are shared, there is a point of conversation. On the other hand, it is interesting to meet non-nationals, as well as people from other cultures. This too can create conversation, sharing alternative experiences and furthering our learning.

What is it, then, that allows us to connect with someone upon meeting? If it’s not age, and it’s not our backgrounds, can we conclude that we have a superior communication experience with those who share our interests? Surely, I thought, it had to be more than that.

Whatever it was, I figured that I had a long list of interests, and no-one in the room to share them with that night at the intimate, low-key party. And so I waited, with just my thoughts, for someone to stimulate me, and like clockwork, a similar-minded soul entered the room.

Whether there was such thing as “the one” or not, I hadn’t yet learned, but I had learned that there were lots of “ones”. And they would crop up every so often, willing to communicate.

Honesty - The Best Policy?

They say that you can’t go wrong with honesty. Honesty allows everyone to identify where they stand. And the greatest thing about honesty is that it can be applied to not just your lover, but also your friends and family.

Some people find it inconceivably difficult to be honest. Saying I love you face to face for the first time can be a nightmarish experience, wondering if the response will be “thank you” or worse “I have to go”.

Honesty, for me, is not one of life’s problems. In fact, I care so much about honesty I insist upon voicing details which in certain scenarios, can be unwelcome to say the least. I realised this whilst sitting alone in a casual downtown bar on Tuesday night. My drinking partner of the evening had gone to the bathroom. I had a moment of silence to reflect on the pitiless monologue I had just recited.

Did I feel regret, I wondered. Arriving at the conclusion that I did not, I realised that honesty to me is more important than its effects. Some people, I have learned, prefer lies. This may be controversial to say, and god knows it will anger many to read, but it is the truth--and it is for this reason that people will be angered.

As a pro-honesty person, you would think that I wouldn’t be able to pretend play with a lover when I was experiencing a separate emotional journey myself. Not so. But it is not about being able, I have learned. It is about choice. Did I really want to conceal my feelings to enable another person to feel that everything is hunky dory?

I may be selfish, I thought, but I am not self-destructive. And I wouldn’t be changing my policy for anyone.

No Pressure Over Cappuccino

My good friend Simon closed a door last week, but little did he know that several windows were about to be opened for him.

As Simon went shopping for stationary supplies with his friend Teresa, an errand that he actually enjoyed, the last thing on his mind was dating. Apparantly though, the same could not be said of his female friend.

“Let’s go for coffee”, Teresa suggested. Never one to decline an opportunity to sit down and catch up properly, Simon agreed that it was, indeed time for coffee. And sandwiches. As their orders arrived in a hip café contained within a period building downtown, Teresa stood. “Oh my god, hi!” she announced as one of her friends—good-looking, definitely—appeared at the tableside.

Simon sighed. A lunch interrupted sometimes felt like someone walking in on you having sex with your lover. It was that sacred. To Teresa, however, no such sacredness existed. “Join us”, she exclaimed. Since when did it become socially acceptable for lunch arrangements to be made without the fellow lunch partner being consulted, Simon had to wonder.

A few short minutes after the good-looking friend had joined, now complete with sandwiches and coffee also, Teresa realised she needed the bathroom. Simon, not known for his shyness, engaged in small talk and a little more with the new person.

“Would you go for a drink sometime?” the new person questioned. If Simon had been the sarcastic self that he is with friends he would have said something along the lines of “Oh, well, I like to go for drinks all the time”, adding atonally “Would this drink be something specific?” But Simon had good manners, and knew that while a drinks invitation over cappuccino meant that Dublin had come along, it may not be ready for sarcasm with strangers. Obliging the offer, Simon started to wonder where his original lunch partner had got to—it had been fifteen minutes, after all.

The new person didn’t seem phased. Simon wondered if maybe Teresa, head in toilet, required assistance. And then everything fell into place. Teresa, it seemed, felt that it was Simon who required assistance; in arranging a replacement for his recently departed Beloved. Or was it the good-looking friend who she was trying to help out?

As Teresa walked back to the table, casually, she remarked, “I’m so sorry, I was just so distracted by the new furniture downstairs…amazing”. Deciding against protesting against the arranged lunch date that had just occurred thanks to Teresa, Simon finished his sandwich.

Maybe it was the coffee, or perhaps it was the sight of the good-looking friend and the idea of drinks together that had required no effort on his part, but Simon decided that today; he was ready for whatever Dublin had to throw at him.

The Reason to Rebound

They say that as one door closes, another opens. They also say that when you’ve split up with a partner, you should give yourself time to grieve its loss. I had to wonder, were ‘they’ perhaps generalising a little too much? Surely everything depends on individual circumstances.

One of my best friends, we’ll call him Simon, recently split with his partner. He didn’t feel the need to lock himself indoors for exactly half the duration of the relationship--that’s how long ‘they’ say it takes to get over someone properly--Simon felt that one and a half years would be too long a period to stay indoors. I had to agree.

On our first encounter since the split, a delve-in-deep conversation was likely to occur, but due to being in company, the content was monitored. Post-break-up discussion can be violent, and we understood that others in our lives not aware of each scenario that had taken place internally over the past three years, may be caused to run scared.

We did, however, discuss rebound, and the possibilities of introducing this powerful ingredient into the recipe of loss of relationship recovery. I, on one hand, love the concept of the rebound. If, like Simon and I, you are prone to returning to situations that are bad for you, the rebound can take you so far out of the said situation that not only do you completely forget its existence, you wonder what its relevance was in the first place.

On the other hand, the last time I rebounded, mere minutes after a VPB (Very Public Break-up), I somehow landed in a one-and-a-half year relationship. I still don’t know how it happened. I’m very aware that I didn’t chase this person, and so I think that the lack of chase perhaps has from time to time made me wonder how this person is here, opposite me, in life. It’s sort of like going out for drinks, becoming incredibly drunk, and finding yourself at home in bed. An ingredient is absent, and yet the final product tells you otherwise.

Either way, I entertained the idea of a rebound for Simon, but did not encourage it. Simon, in his mind, knew that there were other future relationship prospects outside of ‘the situation’ but his heart did not allow his mind to validate this thought. I got to thinking, “why, must the heart be honoured with such authority and opinion?” A rebound was the only way for the heart to be brought in sync with the mind, I concluded.

Three nights later, as Simon documented his weekend to me, sitting in the theatre during the interval of Julius Caesar, I realised that a new door had opened, but more importantly, that the one behind him had finally been closed.

Relationships & Real Estate

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.

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.

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”.