Honesty is something that's coming far too easily to me these days. Sometimes, I bite my tongue because I realise I've completely overshared - or been too honest - but those moments of restraint never really last all that long. I'm unashamedly young, reckless and unfathomably insecure. I'm going to own it on here though, since it's one of the few domains where I feel like I actually can.
Today's ramblepost is on relationships. Yes. I went there, as I always do on this blog. But it's actually been a really long time since I last posted about it on here without sounding like an absolutely not-okay heartbroken, faux-happy asshole, so today I'm posting with a new kind of genuine clarity that I was really hoping to share. It all surrounds the concept of fleeting moments (I know what you're thinking, oh is she going to recap the plot of Serendipity? I'm right, thanks) but seriously. It's such a thing. And I want to rejoice in it.
Hook-up culture is also a thing. It's another one of those things I'm undeniably a participant in. I can't lie about that. For some reason I have no self control when it comes to things I really want. A lot of the time that's people of the opposite gender. I can't help that, and if you can't either - here's my endorsement: don't help it. Go with it. Get unreasonably caught up in an immature fantasy of what could-be before it even-is. Get your ego sucker punched. It's worth it for the fleeting moments (well at 19 years old it is, at least). As the author fuelled by my cliched heart urges me to write: people, play with fire.
Okay. That could have been Vance Joy playing in the background, but it still stands. No matter how many faces have passed through my inbox, pressed against my forehead, or the handful of those whom I've drunkenly planned my entire life with in the last 12 months. Our things may not be things anymore, that's okay. I am still myself, and each one of those souls gave me a little bit of themselves that I really do value. The important part I want to note is that I have not lost a single inch of my dignity. I've probably gained some, to be completely honest.
I'm going to sound ragey feminist for a second (thank you for that label, haha), but what is ridiculously clear to me now is my own satisfaction. Experience, and yes, I do mean in the field you're thinking of is so important to me in determining what I want - no, deserve - in a relationship for the rest of my life. I'm not saying it has to be important to everyone. Go ahead, abstain, you have a satisfaction of your own in doing so. But seriously, what were we all afraid of? Social constructs? Sex in the City still hasn't left a big enough mark on our generation, I think. The capacity for someone to make me feel special, beautiful and equal is so important. You don't know you can feel this way with just anyone. Some people don't have that capacity, even when you're "with them", "legitemately". Yet, when you have that moment of mutual respect, even with an almost-stranger, it's surreal. Fleeting, but wonderful all the same.
In reality, you get hurt. You start to feel things for people who don't feel the same way (and vice versa). But that's ok. Your fleeting moment wasn't meant to be prolonged. I have a feeling that one day when that's supposed to happen, it just will. Let's be frank, dating in 2014 isn't as simple as dinner and a movie and the 3-month rule.
My future partner won't care that I, myself, am a collection of the souls that have helped me be where I am. On the same note, I won't care that he once was a fleeting moment in a collection of girls' pasts too. It's just how it is, and just how it probably will be.
But right now I love fleeting moments. Oh good lord, I love them.
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