"I never wanted but your heart. That gone, you have nothing more to give."
-Mary Wollstonecraft
I've often thought that relationships will start out fine and easy, like the slow turning of flowers into blossom. You see, it was in my latest correspondence with a friend that got me to thinking, do we really want what we ask for? I've always asked for someone who could understand me, someone attractive, who wants to get to know me, who's a gentleman. Yet, I've been given the opportunity to be with someone just like this, and all I can think of is: god, now that I'm not being judged by the shallow and materialistic needs of men, what's left [of me] to judge? I mean, here is a genuine, intelligent, great young man that wants to be with me. And all my past insecurities (and possible indifference to him) gets in my way of being in a relationship.
Now, if we back up a little and work with the quote I inserted first, we can build around that. If we have nothing to give except our heart, is the rest just random play? Granted, not everyone out there wants a long-term (or short term) relationship. I'm not one of those people; I can't just be a girl on the side, or a girl you have fun with while you date dozens of other girls. It's not me, and it's never been in me. The last time I was involved with someone, I couldn't help but focus on the fact that we were very different people. It was no secret that he felt the same, and often thought of me in those terms. I hated him for it, but it intrigued me so much more. And to tell you the truth, all I really wanted was his heart. But in the final stage of our 'fling,' I realized I'd never win. He didn't want something deep and profound, and quite possibly might never want that; he was completely blind to my emotions-whether or not it was a conscious decision of his to be ignorant.
I left him. And I often look back and think that without his heart, I really had nothing else to look forward to. I was so caught up in winning him over, in being with him, in letting him see that there was so much more to me, and to quote a great article-"I [was] tired of being scared in order to be fetching.' He was this great adventure, constantly on the run. And I wanted that, too, to an extent. I never realized that he was just himself, and there was nothing more to discover. I always found it sad that he never gave himself the chance to know me, to see me, and to appreciate what I could be. But I guess when you're so caught up in living 'in the moment,' you don't really look around and notice how far you've come. In that way, we'll never really see each other. But I give him credit. It's hard sleeping with so many women at once and half-lying to get laid all the time.
I think that if I ever did gain his heart in exchange for what I'd been through, it wouldn't be feather-light and that shade of passionate red we attribute to a fighting love and glory. It would be sad, small, and black. So I ask you, as an audience:
Do you have anything more to give?
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