But relationships aren't about how people physically fit together. It's about how their minds, their souls mesh. The best and most romantic relationship I had was with a man who did not take me dancing because -- just once -- we stepped out on the dance floor and I rested my chin on the top of his head. I was stocking-footed, to boot. (Of course, the decision to avoid the dance floor may also have had something to do with the fact that I was born with two left feet).
Nevetheless, and dance notwithstanding, our embrace was filled with laughter. And, nearly twenty years after our romance ended on a wry and distant note, we still love and are still in love with one another, for having been able to make each other happy despite our many irreconcilable differences.
I often wonder if the expectations we place on others, that they "measure up" in all manner of inconsequential ways, may be a great contributor to the loneliness I heard and read about, recently. (the link is a pdf).
After all, we are bombarded with literature which says we must "find the perfect mate", and with media depictions of friendships which are little more than mirrors of the most shallow sort of people, as though the sole purpose of a friend, in real life or in televisionland is to keep the viewer amused. Worse, we're sold sex as another form of amusement, and the notions of romance, friendship are outmoded.
Let me correct that: romance is discarded, and sexual pleasure is sold in its place, under that label. Romance, true romance, involves discovery, it involves sharing, it involves growing trust and it involves a certain amount of selflessness. True romance is a couple in their eighties cracking wise. True romance is his being a dog-lover and their having a cat. Her being a spinach-hater and stocking the fridge with it regularly because he likes it. It's not diamonds and hearts, chocolates and red roses. It's knowing when to hold tight, and knowing when to let each other stand independent. Sexual pleasure is merely a fringe element of that.
Friendship is sold as "you'll hold my head off the toilet seat while I puke all the alcohol out of my system, you'll be my wingman to help me pick up a hottie for a quickie," and not "you'll help me avoid dangerous excess." The true friend isn't just there to bail you out of trouble, he's there to keep you out of it. The true friend doesn't just know your secrets and help you keep them, he knows your limits and helps you keep them.
But none of that comes in a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder. It starts slowly, and builds slowly, and requires a lot of care and feeding. Too many of us, when we don't see the joy of deep and abiding friendships happen overnight, give up and settle for the superficial satisfactions, assuming (and only half-rightly) there is something wrong with ourselves. The something wrong, though, is not what we think it is.
We are led to believe that if we can't do something right away, we lack a "natural talent", and we should look elsewhere for our sense of self worth. Friendship is not a "talent", though. What is often believed to be instant friendship, what I have known more than a few times in my life as well, is natural affinity -- a strong like-mindedness. That is a gift, rare and exciting, but it is nevertheless not the best part. The best part must be earned over time.
In our demand for instant gratification, we lose the most significant element: trust in ourselves to build and keep friendships.
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