Saturday, February 13, 2010

past imperfect

so I've been thinking a lot about past loves. I have a few. I think I've mentioned it here before: that whole new love infatuation energy thing was my drug of choice for a good chunk of my young adulthood. it makes for a full, exciting, perfectly unstable history of relationship.

one thing I find fascinating about remembering past boyfriends, flings, crushes, etc, is the filter that develops over time. isn't it interesting how in the film-making industry of my memory, characters who in real life were dishonest and untrustworthy become romantic heroes? and then there is the one whose rejection sent me to my pillow for days with a knife in my heart and today I have to think hard to remember his last name and would gamble I wouldn't recognize him if I passed him in the street.

I love looking at my love history with a science-like approach. what purpose did each relationship serve? what need was being met? what elements of human development were being achieved? what were the lessons? did I learn them? did I teach them? what is the significance of the memories that remain front and center to this day?

one of the reasons I don't really appreciate valentine's day is that I find it troublesome to focus only one day a year on expressing love. this valentine's day I'm going to spend some time thinking about and honoring past loves, the good and the bad. a single day seems a really good amount of time to do this. without getting too willie nelson about the whole thing, I'll pay a sweet tribute to those who helped shaped who I am today as a wife, friend, mother, person.

this song pretty much sums it all up (and oh my god, how freakin' beautiful can a woman be?!). I especially love the words at the end:

thank you for breaking my heart.
thank you for tearing me apart.
now I'm a strong, strong heart.
thank you for breaking my heart.


leenie, you are so right! here's barbra rocking a sequined kaftan singing that song.