Love & Gender

I haven’t forgotten the questions or my desire to chronicle the werid dreams I’ve been having. But now I’ve left Indiana and am in Florida with dial-up Internet. I swear I’m the only college student in America who got to go to Florida on both Spring and Thanksgiving Break and didn’t want to go. Airports suck the day before Thanksgiving. But this is a little something I typed up as I flew from Charlotte to Tampa, high above the world. Its something that’s been eating at my brain for quiet some time now and though it rambles, I get out what I need to get out… At least for now.

Do men and women love differently? Do they look at their objects of affection and translate their emotions differently? Think of how a man reaches and embraces the woman he loves or the child he fathered. They seem to reach back, not out. Women reach out for lovers. Women call out and pull their lovers back to bed. They are generally the ones who fall in love first, though they may not be the ones to say it first. They are the ones who cry first, though tears may not show. It is in women’s nature to love and nurture and care, and not because we are socially and culturally taught to do so. A small girl will nurture and care and look outward for signs of affection. A small boy will defend and protect and look inward for signs of affection. I’m not saying that boys don’t love and girls do. I’m not saying that boys don’t want to be hugged or cuddled or look for comfort and love in their parents and peers. But when it comes to showing love, when it comes to expressing love, there is a distinct difference between the genders. Women provide comfort and warmth. They put love out there into the world and wait to see what comes back to them. What comes back is the Man. Men provide safety and security. They look for love and return it when found. So can a man love a woman without being loved himself first? I think love can be displaced just as hate and anger can be displaced. Why do we assume only “bad” emotions can be displaced? Loving someone enables me to accept love. Sometimes that love is returned from the person I love. Sometimes it comes from somewhere else.

Let’s get personal. I loved Tim with my whole heart and soul. Ignoring the fact that he trampled on my life and left me for dead, my love shone through to other people who saw me. Other men were attracted to me, wanting me. Manny loved me while seeing me love another man. He did this not once, but three times. (Talk about asking for punishment!) I was able, for a time, displace my love for Tim and turn it to Manny. But my love for Manny will always be connected to other men, to other heartaches.

It’s time for a tangent. Do I tell him this? Now that I see this is the way I am, do I allow him in on this secret? That the love I felt for him was only a displacement of love? Would I have ever fallen in love with him if it were not for what I went through with Tim? My love for Manny is real; I have no doubts about that. I loved him. But would I have loved him if our lives were lived in a different way?

Do I love Manny for him or for what he was for me? Do I love Mike?

I don’t really know the answer to either of those questions. I know I can count on Manny and I know he will always be there for me. I also know that I will never love him the way I once did. He and I were never meant to be. The love I once felt for him would not have lasted through the years and become the love I see in my parents and grandparents. I could not have carried his children and made an entire life with him. We will forever be in each other’s lives, as observers and commentators, but they will run parallel, not in unison. He is just a plot point in the movie of my life.

The second question is more complicated because the story has not ended. The chapter of my life entitled ‘Manny’ has long since been resolved. I know the end of that story. But I’m right smack in the middle of the chapter entitled ‘Michael.’ For all I know it could be entitled ‘The Beginning’ or not even mention him by name. I care about him, this I know. I want him to be happy. I also know that I don’t want him out of my life. I wouldn’t put my life aside for him and I wouldn’t want him to do that either. But I don’t want to write him out of my story, at least not just yet. There are days when I am perfectly content to let the story write itself and just wait for the ending. But there are days when I want to know if I’m letting myself get in too deep. I want to know if I’m going to get severely hurt in the end.

But that’s life and that’s love. You take the risk. And what you risk, you will reap the rewards or wallow in the cost. And I could be risking more, but I could also fold and walk away. I don’t want to do either, so I’m only left with striving onward and forward.

I think what I really want is to know when he’s going to leave me. I’m pretty sure he will leave me and I’ll be left hurting. I’m not so afraid of the hurting, I’ve been through that and I can handle going through it again. But I don’t want to be left the only one hurting. If he’s thinking of leaving me, I want to leave him first. I want to leave him with his eyes scratched out and hair ripped from his follicles. My biggest regret about the break-up with Tim was that I don’t think he suffered as much as I did. I want him to suffer. I still want him to suffer and feel an inkling of the pain I had to go through. If he’s got to leave me, fine. But it will not be comfortable. It will not be pleasant and he WILL remember me.

No music. I listened to US Airways flight attendants and jet engines so no music comes to mind.