Pretending to be an angel

During childhood, I was led to believe that love stories lasted forever, and if they did not, it was due to the death of one lover, which immediately led to the death (physical or emotional) of the other. Things did not shift much, they remained within controllable patterns. It is less of a disturbance to think in patterns: you minimise the risks of hitting the bottom of thinking by trying to attach logic to the astrays of emotionalism. However, as I learned after archiving my storybooks in the attic, relationships do not always end good (eg marriage, loads of children, big house and Nirvanic happiness). In fact, the ones that do are quite suspicious :). What people realize less is the impact of their termination upon the others. After a couple of friends have broken up, we cannot go out with both of them any more; separate meetings are necessary, and of course the subject of the relationship must be avoided. New people enter their respective lives – and ours – and sometimes we cannot help ourselves but to compare the present state with “what used to be” and finding exactly those differences which make us regret the older days.

Does it make sense better live alone, rather than inflicting the pain of changing the status quo? This all depends on the base we make our choices on. Were we here only to care for the happiness of others, maybe it would make sense to store our inner self in others, and hope they will keep it safe. But we can’t – because we do not trust others sufficiently (more about this in a next post) – and maybe because we have no idea how to do it.

Who else is gonna bring you a broken arrow
Who else is gonna bring you a bottle of rain
There he goes moving across the water
There he goes turning my whole world around
(Rod Stewart, Broken Arrow)