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Love is strange. Strange how
Love is strange. Strange how it starts, strange how it goes, strange how it never really ends even when its over. Strange what it does -- and doesn't -- do to people.
The series finale of Felicity was tonight. It made me really sad. Partly because it's a damn good show and can really suck me in emotionally (just like My-So Called Life can), and partly because it's one of my time capsule items. Something that reminds me of specific places and times and people in my life. And it got me thinking about a lot of stuff. Like love (see above). And about how as we get older its weird how we have to deal with the fact that the person we're with is most likely going to have this photo album of past loves in the back of their mind. And we can't erase it, we can't compete with it, we just have to live with it. We have to live with it because we know we have our own photo album of people who can still make us cry just by looking at us funny, people who know us intimately because they used to wake up next to us every morning. And it's not that we want to go back, or that we want them back, we just can't ever get rid of all that memory. We don't want to. We love our own album, but the fact that the other person has one can be hard to deal with. I think it's the price we pay as a culture for choosing dating over arranged marriages.
Along these same lines, I was thinking the other day about possession. How it seems people want to possess love, or lovers, but we don't want to be possessed ourselves. We want others to love us, as long as it doesn't interfere too much with our own plans. Or maybe that's just me.
It's funny, though. That photo album thing.
Posted May 23, 2002 12:30 AM | On This Day: 2003