I'd like to call bullshit on the above quote from Lord Tennyson's poem, In Memorium A.H.H., but that would be my bangry side rearing it's ugly head. I've spent a few weeks ruminating on the quote; trying to decide if I believe it to be true, or if I've finally succumbed to my bitterness towards love and therefore believe the quote to be a big, steaming, heaping, gigantic pile of bullshit. I'm waffling.
A few weeks ago I made an appearance at my cousin's birthday party (doesn't that make me sound soooo important?), and instead of over-imbibing on shots with my family, I found myself having an unexpected conversation with a good friend of my aunt's. I had heard this very successful, strong woman was about to be getting remarried, and being the polite girl I am (*cough* can you be a polite girl and swear like a trucker?), I congratulated her and asked the cliche questions women ask about weddings; when were they getting married? Where would the wedding be? Blah, blah, blah. Her answer caught me off guard - and absolutely amazed me. They would be getting married rather soon, as her fiance has terminal cancer and they were eager to spend the time he has left, together.
We talked a more, and the remainder of the conversation, now, is a blur in my memory. But I vividly remember her beautiful smile betraying the tears that started to gather in her eyes. And that quote drifted into my mind..."'Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all."
Bullshit. Right? I have racked up many lost loves - sob stories of this not working out, or that guy being a jerk, the timing not being right, or having someone walk away because I can't conceive children. Am I better off because I fell in love with someone and they spent the months we lived together screwing other women? Am I ahead in life because I fell head-over-heels in love with a guy who told me he wanted to marry me (during a wedding no less - gents, DO NOT tell a girl you want to marry them while you're at a wedding; we are vulnerable, and WE WILL believe you) and then three weeks later told me he no longer wanted to be in a relationship? One side of me would answer with a resounding NO! and insist that quote is absolute fucking bullshit.
Except...that means it's all in vain. All this effort we make (ok, ok, the effort I make) to find someone is for naught. If we're better off having never felt love at all, why bother looking for it in the first place?
For the sake of a beautiful smile that betrays tears. Because my heart soared when my ex leaned over as the bride walked down the aisle and asked when we should get married. For the sake of having a relative stranger approach you with two glasses and a bottle of wine and telling you it was time the two of you got to know each other - and having that moment change your life. Because one amazing first date with an electric connection can turn into a whirlwind that could end in disaster...but...it might just end in love.
I dated a guy last year for a few months, and he took my breath away. Terribly cheesy to say, I know, but he did. He was fantastic - funny, intelligent, thoughtful, good-looking, and holy fuck did he have some amazing abs (yes, sometimes I'm shallow). One day, he did something I secretly hoped someone would do for me (or maybe not so secretly since my good friends know that making this particular gesture would render me putty in the right guy's hands). And I fell. Hard. Despite every inch of me trembling subconsciously for fear of being hurt, I fell. A few weeks after this small, sweet gesture, he decided to walk away from whatever was blooming between us, and it crushed me.
His reason? Fear.
So on one hand, you have that. An amazing person (who is also a giant pussy) and myself - who succumb to that fear far too often. And on the other hand, you have a woman facing an impossible situation - and she jumps right in, heart bare, and loves. If that isn't proof, I don't know what is. It is, in fact, "better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all."
And just like that, my resolve to stop dating flies out the window. My logic may be very flawed and my heart may be scarred, but since when does love coincide with logic? And maybe dudes dig scars just as much as chicks do.