little boy blue, and the man on the moon.
My room bathes in a balmy haze tonight as full moonlight pours through the window like milky paint. Karaoke crickets, oblivious to the hour, are singing to one another at the top of their wings, but I don’t mind. Their nocturnal chirps are far from what’s keeping me awake.
For me, it is the dead of night that causes my inner thoughts to rouse from their grave, running rampant gauntlets around my mind when all I feel like catching is a few precious z’s. Sleep and I share a tumultuous love-hate relationship, like that movie channel in your cable package that throws unknown garbage at you that you’ll never watch, but every so often, will surprise you with a forgotten favourite just when you’re about to give up hope. It doesn’t make the other crap any less crappy, but it assures that you’ll at least check it from time to time to see what’s on.
Delightfully, tonight’s feature presentation in my mental cinema, is all about me! Me, and the fact that the only man in my bed is the one on the moon – and how I’m perfectly okay with that.
I vehemently dispute the all-too-common notion that one must be in a relationship at all times in order to feel personally fulfilled. Obviously, different people seek out partnerships for a multitude of reasons – beside the obvious (love and devotion, companionship, security, recurrent sex, etc), the exact motivators and the sequence in which they are prioritized, are as varied as the individual in question. However, there are those who walk among us in blind belief that they, themselves, are improved by proxy through their partner. I disagree.
I believe the old adage to prove true, that one is unable to truly love another, until they are able to love themselves. How are you able to bring out the best in another, when you, yourself are not at yours? How are you equipped to instil hope in those around you, when you, yourself, are not hopeful? Is it reasonable or fair to expect somebody else to pick you up and put you back on your feet again? Is it truly someone else’s responsibility?
We all know those people who bounce from relationship to relationship like heart-shaped kangaroos, hopping from one sack to the next and thinking little to nothing of it. Some would argue that this is due to the fact that if they stop even for a moment to pause, realization would sink in that these people haven’t the sweetest clue as to who they are. It’s so easy to get caught in the trap of identifying oneself through those they are surrounded with, and before you know it, your own personal sense of self can be lost.
I do not identify myself as somebody who requires a relationship to function. There are no voids to fill or feelings of emptiness or inadequacy. Do I want a relationship? Of course. But I feel that to be the key point, here. My desire stems from a want – not a need.
Who doesn’t yearn for that special someone to share their life with? Your port in the storm, your shoulder to cry on, your best friend to laugh with. I’m looking for someone who improves my life by being present in it – not somebody who single-handedly comprises my life. I’m holding out for a person who understands me, not one who creates me. In my head, love has always taken the form of ‘partners in crime’, not puppet and puppeteer, and it saddens me in a way that some people out there are more than willing to settle for the latter, rather than exercise patience and abstain from grasping at whatever comes along.
The crickets’ courtship calls fall on my ears again, and for a fleeting moment, I feel the slightest twinge of loneliness. Just a carefully placed and orchestrated prick, as my inner acupuncturist reminds me that I am human, after all. As quickly as it arrived, the sensation leaves again, like a ghost passing through my chalk-coated room. It’s a full moon, after all.
This is the cue that I am adequately tired and ready to succumb to slumber. I close my eyes and dream of someone, out there somewhere in a moon-bathed room, listening to the cricket song and dreaming of me. When we cross paths, I’ll be more than a mere work in progress.
I’ll be ready. And it will be more than worth the wait.
