Heartbreak numbers

As I sat today at lunch with my Cre-comm gal pals, I stopped to ask one of them how things were going with a guy I know she’s been involved with for awhile. I know they have a rocky history and things have been tough for her in the past with him. Recently, she’s confided in me that he’s confessed to her the thing she’s been waiting to hear for years; he really wants to make it work.

Now, even as she has been telling me that she’s been trying to fight his constant advances and she knows (based on his history) that he isn’t the guy for her, I can still see that glimmer of hope and excitement in her eyes every time we talk about it. I try to ask her about it as often as I can, even if it’s just to be the nagging voice in her head that reminds her how amazing she is and that she must not give in to his incessant advances.

Then again, I understand her happiness with the situation. She is finally on the winning side of this relationship. She had the upper hand. He is begging her to get back together. And although, I am, of course, advising her against it, I am still happy she is getting her closure on the issue.

Back to today at lunch. I ask her how things are going since the last time we discussed the topic earlier this week. She looks at me, frustrated and angry.

“Oh, Kiran,” she says. “It’s all gone to hell. He struck again.”

I ask her for details and it is revealed that she just found out that he is now, once again, behind her back, talking suggestively with one of her friends. Now, to give my readers some context, he had previously snuck around with a friend of hers and lied about it. Repeat the scenario now. She knows what’s coming.

My heart sinks. Again? Really? Even I was hoping this boy had finally changed and learned his lesson. Alas, do they ever?

This brings me to the topic of today’s post. The player and his numbering system.

My friend told me that she knows, in her heart, that although he recently told her she is the one he wants to be with, he is also talking to many other girls at the same time as her.

I know many other people who have experienced this same scenario. Actually, one of my close friends is a “player,” in that he is often involved with one girl he really likes, but talks/flirts/hooks up with up to three or more on the side at the same time. When I ask him why he does this, his reply is usually the same.

“I guess, Kiran, it’s because I can.”

Do I think players can be good people? Sure. Do I think they have hearts and are capable of love? Probably. Do I know a lot of them and call some my friends? Yes. Do I hate their numbering system? With a passion.

So what is this numbering system? It’s simple. The player often has one girl they are genuinely interested in. She’s his number one. Then they have a series of other girls who fall below the number one. The hot chick. The smart girl. The texter and so on. These girls get their own subsequent numbers based on what needs they fulfill for the player. In a nutshell, the player really likes his number one, but when he doesn’t get what he wants from her, he moves on to number two, or three, or four, or five.....

I told my friend to call her “player” tonight and to end things. The fact of the matter is, even if for one second we are to assume that he isn’t cheating on her with her friend, he’s done it before and her instinct is to think he’ll do it again.

She doesn’t trust him. It’s a vicious cycle, she needs to get out.

And let me say one more thing on this topic, one I’m actually very familiar with. To those players out there and to any people who are involved with them, you shouldn’t be a number on their scale or list.

It doesn’t really matter if you’re their number one.

The point is that there’s a scale in the first place. And you deserve to be with someone who ONLY wants to be with you. You deserve someone who is willing to stick by you to work on the issues you two are having. Not one that moves on to the next person who gives them what they want when things aren’t going well.

Moreover, you deserve to be with someone who is obsessed with ONLY you. Who is addicted to your smile, the sound of your voice, the thoughts in your head, and the ideas in your heart.

Someone who is in love with you through and through. And only you.

Because this is one thing I know for sure.

You shouldn’t be his number one.

You should be his only one.

= in love?

So I got to thinking this week after talking to a few of my friends (also known as my sounding boards...thank you!), is it possible to have a relationship in which both people feel the exact same way about each other? As in, they love each other equally? Or will one person always have stronger feelings than the other?

I think that falling in love is a subjective experience. It’s different for everyone and often, why we fall, when we do, and how we do is all indicative of our personal experiences or past. It is determined by what we know about love, what we want from it, and what we’ve been through before. So it is possible that two people can meet in the middle point in a relationship and having gotten to that point by different paths and with different histories, I do believe that it is possible that they feel differently for each other and that their feelings do not “=”.

That’s where my question comes about. If one person in a relationship feels more for the other (ie, likes the other person more than they like them), is this fair? Is it possible to have people who feel EXACTLY the same for each other, ie equally for one another?

I think it is possible for people to feel exactly the same way for one another, in some instances. These people are incredibly lucky. I always say, one of the greatest gifts in life is to love....and be loved in return.

But for everyone else, I’m sure you’ve all found yourself in that position before. Either you’ve been Person A, where you’ve been head over heels for someone and that person hasn’t felt the same way for you. Or you’ve been Person B, where you’ve been with someone and although you have feelings for them, you know they like you more than you like them.

Which person would you rather be?

I would actually rather be Person A. I know this isn’t the obvious answer. Why would I want to be in love with someone who didn’t love me as much as I loved them? There are a few reasons. First, I think to feel that kind of intensity for someone, that kind of passion, and love, is a gift on its own, even if it isn’t reciprocated. At least I’ll know what I’m capable of feeling in the future and will not settle for mediocre. And secondly, if I was in love with someone who I loved more than they loved me, honestly, I don’t think that relationship would last. I have too much self-respect and dignity; some might even call it pride to stick it through that long. So I’d have my feelings, but if I felt they weren’t returned, I’d bail.....which might leave me with a broken heart, but at least I’d experience true love.

Person B....although at first glance and long term, it may seem like this is an ideal situation to be in, having someone dote all over you, I actually think it’s kind of stressful. Person B would probably be plagued with guilt over the fact that they’re with someone who cares for them so much more than they do for them. It’s overwhelming. More than that, I think Person B would also wonder..... am I settling? Why don’t I feel as strongly for this person? And I haven’t reached the same amount of intensity for this person as they have for me, am I settling? I wouldn’t want to have to ask myself those kinds of questions.

Then again, Person B could develop stronger feelings for Person A and it could all work out.

But in case it doesn’t, I know it’s not the typical answer, but I’d rather be Person A....because I know I’d get out. But If you don’t know that, maybe stick with being Person B.

Of course, the right answer to this love debacle is this:

Love= Person A = Person B= a gift.

Happy belated Valentine’s Day!

Heartbreak Warfare

I love this song.

It's about a girl who uses jealousy to hurt a man. And it's lovely!!!!

Lightning strikes
Inside, my chest to keep me up at night
Dream of ways
To make you understand my pain

Clouds of sulfur in the air
Bombs are falling everywhere
It's heartbreak warfare
Once you want it to begin,
No one really ever wins
In heartbreak warfare

If you want more love,
why don't you say so?
If you want more love,
why don't you say so?

Drop his name
Push it in and twist the knife again
Watch my face
As I pretend to feel no pain

Say what you will about ol'Johnny Mayer, he's a poet.

On another note: Facebook versus Twitter

This year in Public Relations class, we were directed to get a Twitter and a Facebook account if we did not already have them. I’ve had Facebook for about three years but was just recently introduced to Twitter.

There are many differences between the two. Twitter exists for users to send out “tweets” which are basically status updates of their choosing that run between 0-140 characters long. Also, in Twitter, you can “follow” anyone you want really. The common trend on Twitter is to follow celebrities, athletes, news organizations, and designers, anything or anyone that interests you really. This way you can get updates about what’s up and coming in areas that interest you.

Facebook on the other hand is a bit more personal. In general, most of the people you become friends with on Facebook are people you know in some personal way. Facebook is more used for people to write on each other’s walls and posts photos.

Personally, I check my Facebook account at least once a day because I find that my “notifications/updates” on Facebook are more personal and often I’ve had someone send me a private message, write on my wall, or post photos. I use Facebook to stay connected to my family and friends. Morever, on Facebook, you can control what people can see and who you become friends with.

I don’t really use my Twitter account, I may check it max twice a week. Twitter is different than Facebook because you cannot control who becomes your “follower” and if you are not posting updates, it’s unlikely you may have much activity on your account. The one thing I do love about Twitter is that you can get headline information updates from news sources that interest you at any time. That’s a plus.

In terms of Public Relations, I think Twitter and Facebook both have their own benefits. For PR, Twitter is a great tool because it is the way to social network with other people and organizations that you may otherwise never connect with, post updates of what’s going on for you or your client, and also get your news out or keep up on the news in a fast and efficient manner.

For PR, I think Facebook is also valuable but in a different way. On Facebook, you can create fan groups, events, and add people as friends if you think they can help your cause. This is a great way to keep in touch with people, get information out, and promote your brand.

Regret: the worst emotion

Those that know me best know that I live my life by this philosophy: never apologize for how you feel. You can’t help your feelings. What you can control are your actions. Those you are accountable for. But feelings? No, those come from within.

With that, I often make decisions based on how I feel, on my instinct, what I believe to be right...because that way, at least I did what I felt was best, and in that way, I don’t have regrets.

No regrets. I hate having regrets. That feeling that maybe things could have been different. I think that’s why when Glenda Ollero, a girl in my class posted the following poem in response to my last blog, it resonated with me.

How articulate and beautiful, tragic and terrible, I found it. I think we've all been there, given yourself to someone or something that could not meet you half way or give you what you deserve.I think that's why I like this poem. Because it's what every person who has been hurt by a lover wants their lover to feel later. We want them to know what they missed out on, what they gave up, and to wonder what could have been...if only they'd had enough courage to recognize what they had right in front of them. We want them to feel what he says in this poem. I'm sorry." I'm sorry all the kisses I scrawled on your neck were written in disappearing ink."

My interpretation of the poem is as follows.

It is about a man who has just met up with an old flame, a past lover. It is now 13 years later and they are reminiscing about their past together and he is regretting his choices in the relationship. She is now married, “I notice the ring that's landed on your finger.”

The first thing I liked about the poem is how strong the woman is. “Thirteen years ago, you hid the hurt in your voice under a blanket and said there's two kinds of women—those you write poems about and those you don't.”

To me, that line says that 13 years ago, the woman realized that this man could not give her what she deserved, he did not consider her to be the kind of woman you write poems for. Knowing she deserved someone who thought the world of her, but also knowing she could not force him to feel this way, she left him. That’s my kind of girl. What's better? The fact that he recognizes that he did not do right by her. "It's true. I never brought you a bouquet of sonnets, or served you haiku in bed."

The next part of the poem I enjoy is when he talks about how he fulfilled a role in her life. He was that bad boy, the one without the emotions, the unromantic...which he now regrets. I think we all fulfill different roles in each other's lives. Our purposes differ, too bad his was the wrong one in her life. How agonizingly sad. “But I worked within the confines of my character, cast as the bad boy in your life, the Magellan of your dark side."

“We don't have a past so much as a bunch of electricity and liquor, power never put to good use.” Haven’t we all been there? Had so much chemistry and passion with someone that all else was lost?

“But I'm still not immune to your waterfall scent, still haven't developed antibodies for your smile.” Now that is lovely poetry. Is it true, are there people who we never get over, no matter how hard we try?

Thirteen years later, this man is still hopelessly in love with this woman who has now moved on. “I don't know how long regret existed before humans stuck a word on it.” There it is. Regret.

And finally, the end of the poem. Words written so well and articulately so, I will let them speak for themselves. What I will add is this, if you have something to say to someone, you should say it right then and there, before the moment passes you by. The point of the poem? The fact that they were too busy being sexually engulfed in each other, they never took the time to appreciate the person behind the passion.

“I wish that just once, instead of skidding off the shoulder blade's precipice and joyriding over flesh, we'd put our hands away like chocolate to be saved for later, and deciphered the calligraphy of each other's eyelashes, translated a paragraph from the volumes of what couldn't be said.”

Thanks Glenda, this is easily one of my favourite poems now.

If you have an interpretation, please share!

The Benjamin Franklin of Monogamy
by Jeffrey McDaniel

Reminiscing in the drizzle of Portland, I notice
the ring that's landed on your finger, a massive
insect of glitter, a chandelier shining at the end

of a long tunnel. Thirteen years ago, you hid the hurt
in your voice under a blanket and said there's two kinds
of women—those you write poems
about

and those you don't. It's true. I never brought you
a bouquet of sonnets, or served you haiku in bed.
My idea of courtship was tapping Jane's Addiction

lyrics in Morse code on your window at three A.M.,
whiskey doing push-ups on my breath. But I worked
within the confines of my character, cast

as the bad boy in your life, the Magellan
of your dark side. We don't have a past so much
as a bunch of electricity and liquor, power

never put to good use. What we had together
makes it sound like a virus, as if we caught
one another like colds, and desire was merely

a symptom that could be treated with soup
and lots of sex. Gliding beside you now,
I feel like the Benjamin Franklin of monogamy,

as if I invented it, but I'm still not immune
to your waterfall scent, still haven't developed
antibodies for your smile. I don't know how long

regret existed before humans stuck a word on it.
I don't know how many paper towels it would take
to wipe up the Pacific Ocean, or why the light

of a candle being blown out travels faster
than the luminescence of one that's just been lit,
but I do know that all our huffing and puffing

into each other's ears—as if the brain was a trick
birthday candle—didn't make the silence
any easier to navigate. I'm sorry all the kisses

I scrawled on your neck were written
in disappearing ink. Sometimes I thought of you
so hard one of your legs would pop out

of my ear hole, and when I was sleeping, you'd press
your face against the porthole of my submarine.
I'm sorry this poem has taken thirteen years

to reach you. I wish that just once, instead of skidding
off the shoulder blade's precipice and joyriding
over flesh, we'd put our hands away like chocolate

to be saved for later, and deciphered the calligraphy
of each other's eyelashes, translated a paragraph
from the volumes of what couldn't be said.