oh, horoscope.

The Libra horoscope for today (according to my iphone app) says: 

"If love is forever, how can it be that people who were once deeply in love can grow apart and stop loving each other after many years together?  You may now be pondering whether you truly love someone, or whether someone truly loves you.  If a relationship ends, was it never for real?  That question cannot be answered in this small space, or perhaps in any way for certain.  Just know this, Libra:  Love is a living thing.  To keep it going you must feed it and nurture it.  To keep focusing on whether it's real or not will only frustrate you.  Do your best to keep it alive, and if it dies anyway, then take your love someplace where it can flourish."

Hmmmm.

Interesting and very apropos topic for me these days.  Things have been getting much better for me on the 'love' front recently.  Just the lack of pain and disappointment has been a refreshing change and I quite like it.  The old "time heals all wounds" thing, I suppose.  Also, distance from a situation gives perspective.  I have been thinking about past failed relationships a lot lately, even discussing and analyzing some of them quite openly with a friend, at the risk of being judged by him as unfit for future dating.  We were both being brutally honest about the mistakes we've made in the past, and not necessarily looking to judge each other but I think instead show that we can acknowledge that we're not perfect and take responsibility for the less-than-awesome things we've done to other human beings as a result of love gone somehow wrong.  As if to say, "see?  I've done THIS before, and I can learn a lesson...I won't do it again, I promise."  

But is that really true?  I mean, I have no doubt that as humans, our intent is good.  Nobody enters into a new relationship WANTING it to slide into boring complacency, or plummet into resentful jealousy.  It just *happens*.  So what's the magic sauce to keep that from occurring...again?  Just happening to find the right partner?  Enough experience on the parts of both partners to have made the big mistakes in the past, and we've run out of heinous fuck-ups to commit against each other this time?  Or just so much chemistry and attraction, and being on the same wavelength, with similar goals and values, that it never runs out of steam?  

I hate to say that I've seen more failed relationships than successful ones, but sadly, it is true.  Mathematically, it kind of makes sense, the whole 'you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince' thing.  But I will say that for those relationships that seem to stand the test of time, it's inspiring.  I know some couples whose attraction for each other is still palpable even after 10+ years.  Others who still pal around like best friends, with decades of inside jokes between them.  I'll be honest - I want that.  I want the jokes, the glances, the shared Sunday morning routines, the comforting embraces in rough times.  But more than that, I think I just want to know that sometimes relationships actually work - that those happy couples really ARE happy after all that time.  No, everything isn't perfect, of course, life is difficult and shit happens frequently.  But it would be tremendously comforting to know for sure that after years of getting it wrong, we can finally find that one person who is right for us.

But is there only one person for each of us?  I don't know if I believe that.  I don't know that I ever did.  It's kind of a Disneyesque concept that I never really bought into.  I always say, "there's a lid for every pot, and sometimes more than one."  But any cook can tell ya, there's a lot of lids that you THINK fit your pot until things really get boiling, then the leaks show.  Steam seeps out around the ill-fitting edges.  Your stovetop ends up a mess from all the drips.  It just isn't working towards the end the way it did in the beginning.  And there's no way to know it's going to fall apart until you heat things up to a boil and test it, I guess.  Which means taking the risk.  Taking the chance on that new lid, knowing that your cooktop could be sullied and stained, perhaps permanently.  Stains and scars both fade away, but not completely.  Some of them will always leave a shadow reminder of how it got there, perhaps as a reminder not to do it that way again.  Until they fade away it feels like a reminder not to do it again at all.  

But time heals those scars and fades those stains, and the once-again clean slate compels us to try yet another lid.  I think that's the very essence of human nature, knowing the likelihood of failure is high, based on past experience, but doing it again anyway.

Not to be defeatist, but I have kind of concluded that it might not be reasonable for me to think, yet again, "THIS IS THE ONE!" and expect it to last for the rest of my life, when Mr. Wonderful appears in my life.  Is it more realistic of me to just think, "ok, I'm gonna give it another try, and go all in (as I am wont to do), but if it crests then plummets noticeably as other relationships in the past have, just be thankful for the good time we did have together, cut bait, and call it a day"? Is that jaded?  And am I really "all in" if I don't fully have the expectation to stick with it forever?  

Maybe I just rushed things in the past.  (As I am also wont to do.  Always.)  Ok, let me call myself out on that - I (well, WE) definitely rushed things in the past.  Not out of desperation of any sort, frequently it was a combination of situational factors and lack of experience that led to a hasty commitment.  Didn't let the pot get to a full boil before committing to that particular lid.  

As much as I always want to jump in with both feet (no matter how hot I know the water to be), I do learn from experience, and I have learned that when something looks SO promising, like an incredibly tempting fluffy dessert, it's so much sweeter when you wait for it.  Make sure it has the exact flavors you're craving, and you're fully primed to appreciate it before digging in greedily.  Stand back and look at it, create an unforgettable visual imprint.  Smell it, inspect it from every angle, turning it around slowly.  Not to find fault in it and criticize it, but rather to appreciate it for exactly what it is before savoring it slowly, and realizing that it not only meets but exceeds all expectations, because you made sure it was exactly the right one for you right now.

I suddenly want cake...

but I guess I'll wait this time.