Next time somebody sends me an obviously romantic ballad without a real decided-upon sincere romantic reason, I’ll refrain from being pulled into the feeling of the song and sigh like a teenager and, instead, figure out a way to shove that slow music up their ass.
It’s stereotypical how men think they have women all figured out. A few compliments, to show they take interest in them physically and also that they can focus on details (who are we kidding?), eating out at a nice place (and offering to pay for it), proving they have the initiative, sharing a bit of personal information to give the feeling that they are open, offering the seductive look, asking a few questions about the woman’s life, to seem interested. And, of course, throwing out links of good music meant to help with the whole heart-melting sensation. Apparently, they do have everything figured out. And, coincidentally, women appreciate all those mentioned above. Yes, a man must have the initiative, the social standard, the charm, personality, interest and that hint of artistic spirituality to potentially become fatally attractive to women. But, since this is all too easy for some to simulate, how can you tell a faker from the real thing?
I was looking at Danielle Peck’s video “Finding a Good Man” the other day (and several other days) and couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually have such a pair of glasses which reveal men’s real nature, written right on their foreheads. Could we actually handle the truth? Would we ever find someone to really settle with? Surely, all men are flawed, but which are the flaws we can live with and for how long? And why? Looking around at females across town and also at my dear friends, I think somehow we end up accepting a variable degree of illusion (consciously or not) because it helps paint the exact picture we would want to see.
In the initial part of a relationship, one usually focuses on the good side of the partner and amplifies qualities to abnormal degrees. Then, as time passes, we realize that the partner can’t live up to these awesome imagined expectations and we inevitably begin focusing on their flaws, getting angry at ourselves for not having seen them before, or accusing the partner about hiding them in the beginning, just to lead us on. In all this equation, we end up feeding the illusion. Feeding the illusion could very well be called “being in love”. Can we perceive someone we have fallen in love with without distorting their image into something that fits our liking? Can we still say that we’re in love once our perception is that of a cold-blooded killer, profiling their next victim?
It turns out we need this. Every little girl has that perfect image of Price Charming that subconsciously suffocates the reality of ever finding a truly perfect man. And what is perfection, anyway, if not an ever-changing notion that shifts with our needs, our mood and our current achievements. Perfection = the BEST and the best = always better than what we already are or have. Are we on a never-ending journey to finding Mr. Right before going over our thirties?
I saw a funny picture a while before and it put a big smile on my face and made me instantly nod in agreement. It said “Porn movies and Disney are responsible for the most frustrated human beings I know” and it had a little girl and a little boy sketched underneath this text, each asking a question that has probably infested the minds of everyone at least once, at least for the briefest of moments.
Where the hell is my prince charming?
Where the hell is my insatiable whore?
In a world in which we’re not even sure what a Prince Charming is, or hardly ever hear of a “happily ever after”, what is it we are really searching for? In all this haze, we can just hope that the person we chose to have romantic music shoved up their rear end isn’t the one person we could have had the perfect fairytale life with.