Une Liaison…

The first real love story I deeply felt in my bones was Mamet’s “Sexual Perversions in Chicago”. Actually it was the movie version “About Last Night”, with Rob Lowe at his prettiest, and Demi Moore, when she still looked human and not the divine incarnation she currently is. I was 12 or 13, and somebody left the video in the VCR (that’s what we had before DVDs children).

I really shouldn’t have watched it, but I did.

It was the 80’s, and the sexual revolution had come and long gone. Love had new rules, yet we still yearned for permanence, even the dysfunctional one of our parent’s mistakes. So when Lowe (don’t ask me the characters names, to me it was much more real then that) gets asininely provoked over Demi leaving a Tampax wrapper on the bathroom floor, you know then it should have been better left at the one night stand.

Yet I fell in, head over heels. Not with Lowe, or Demi-goddess for that matter, but with the vulnerability of two unbaked people trying to stretch the ephemeral one-night stand into a relationship. At the pit of my stomach I hungered, hungered for the warmth, the warmth of the fleeting, it’s so much more precious then.

Modern love.

These days, its surreally different. We live in a world of arrogantly-demanded haves, without a concept of those who may have-not. Nurtured on a diet of Hannah Montana and Dark Knight, little children daydream of being princesses and superheroes. And they grow into divas with an Amazonian appetite for the self. Enough to fill the river, the forest, an urban jungle or two with utter dis-balance, in order to negate the proverbial void. Perhaps they have it right.

We grew up a little more insecure. On days I was over-compensating I’d allow myself a Cinderella complex, worshiping the emotionally incapable Heathcliffs and Darcies of my Bronte/Austen infused youth, but disallowing myself to formally attend the ball. The self-attention-deficit combined with the unrealistic expectations B/Hollywood gave me about the L word, curdled odd fantasies where deprivation was not only an essential ingredient, but the culmination of it. The beloved would indeed not only un-notice my devotion, but his oblivion would actually land death and me in a scraping match. My pre-pubescent delirium saw me accidentally locked outside in thunderstorms, perhaps floundering overboard, trapped in a tower, and other such masochismos, until I was nearly lost and HE–the inevitable HE–but had to realize my utter adoration for him.

Pain seemed to be an ordained pre-requisite for fulfillment. Even then, the only way I felt deserving of return of affections was if I did not relent despite torture, ambivalence, distance, abhorrence, contempt, and just wretched misery for a good long while.

Even then!

And there it is. Everything I had ever anticipated has come true.

Rob and Demi, in a Mamet-created bar scene hell, make each other miserable. But apparently in this day and age there is no easier way to be together. How did I know at 12? And why did I imagine that this self-perpetuated prophecy of mutually assured destruction could actually result in something healthy? I mean who really cares in this day and age how loyal you are? What matters most is how pissed you can get on the moment someone misses a basket with a Tampax wrapper in the bathroom.

And then all hell breaks lose.

May the gods give us all mad-basketing skills.



13 responses to “Une Liaison…

  1. That was an absolutely FANTASTIC READ! I loved how u’ve described each aspect of everything!!!

    Especially loved how u ended it… ur style of writing has me enraptured 🙂

    Gradually catching up with other stuff bit by bit, before I get to ur latest post 0= )

  2. A, truth is mostly our perception of reality.

    Q, imposition doesn’t breed children (although you did have me laughing), the irresponsibility of hope does. Btw, I think someone beat you to the punch on the hostile merger of miley & bruce:

    Hooma, no need for words, thank you so much for reading, thats all i ask 😀

  3. rofl @ “Cougar Plastic-surgery-enhanced Samurai Princess Superhero”

  4. I really liked your 80’s references and your 21st century references…VCR’s a way better than DVD players 🙂

    love your references to the “L” world….don’t know what else to say but i really do like your writing style 🙂

  5. BTW, let’s not deplore the fact that children are being offered the role models of either a superhero or a princess.

    My goal is to marry the two (more figuratively than literally – no one wants to see the dark knight in family court agreeing to hand over half of Wayne Industries to Hannah Montana).

    If they can make money with “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles”, I should not do to shabbily with “Cougar Plastic-surgery-enhanced Samurai Princess Superhero”

  6. The Tampax wrapper is merely a metaphor for the “relationship” which should also have been discarded once it reached its expiration date (the morning after).

    After that, it imposes, pervades and pollutes your sense of freedom. He felt imposed upon, he reacted. Makes sense. Had Demi made the basket, it wouldn’t have made him less of a basket case.

    Imposition breeds resentment (and sometimes, children).

  7. intospection is the key to happiness. Because nothing changes until we begin to change ourselves. Change is so very hard because we are talking about breaking our cores. If we have been fed this diet of soul starvation for so long we believe it to be true. The more we believe in something the harder it is to change.

  8. A, you said it so beautifully, but the hardest thing an individual can do in life is to get over themselves, and our ego and id often cannot wrap their heads around such an eventuality.

    the metamorphosis of a caterpillar into a butterfly takes time and struggle, but it can happen. provided the caterpillar doesn’t get comfortable in the cocoon and just smoke their life away in a puff of shisha smoke down alice’s rabbit hole!

  9. abracheamour

    B/Hollywood, old love poems, disney princesses, and that insufferable idea of unrequited love (especially that of ishq seperated) have polluted too many minds with nonsensical ideations of what love should be and how it should progress. Love is a personal feeling and its expression is a singularly individual experience. Yes, there are similarities but it is still too buried inside to lump it all together.

    People need to reach within themselves to break the cycles they are in. They also need to be much more cognizant of what they are funneling into impressionable minds. Children are so desperately brainwashed these days. The norm is to be the delicate ultra feminine helpless princess or the beefed up radioactive GI Joe with anger management issues. In a day and age where other peoples pain is amusing and most things are only dealt with on a superficial level, people need to wake up.

  10. sham it was the age old dance…they broke up, but the end seemed to suggest they were back together again…it never ends…

  11. So what happens @ the end of the movie? I struggle reading this because on one hand I don’t believe that it’s true for everyone … but on the other hand, I see it every day. You watched it @ such an impressionable age that it resonated with you as THE story of love. I don’t think anyone ever WANTS to be hurt, they just really want to be loved or to love, and somehow “making hell on earth = love me, love me” for very broken people. I guess it takes so much strength, time, energy, faith, silence, and self belief to actually be strong enough to come out on the other side and still not be sucked back in again to the dark hole. I don’t know what else to say!

  12. and i thought all i was going to get for christmas this year was a WTF 😀

  13. I remember VCRs.

    Like someone once said:
    Men might be from Mars,
    and women, from Venus,
    but both are going to hell

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