So, at callbacks today one of the actors who has known me for a year or so just asked me out of the blue if I was married. I replied that no, I was absolutely single and had been so for quite some time and always seemed to be the "other girl" who is the one guys choose not to date in favor of someone else they meet.
It was kind of a sad moment for me, in that it complimented the remainders of my melancholy mood from the day before, and made me realize that barring my immediate family and my cat (both of whom I do enjoy the company of most days) I am sort of alone.
I tried the random casual dating thing, and I just met people who were nice, but would have eventually wanted me to change myself and be something I'm not. I guess I've been thinking about this a lot lately, as I want to find someone, but I also want the freedom to be absolutely and completely myself at the same time.
I've been wrestling with a lot of moral dilemmas lately, and the whole institution of dating and the sort of friends/benefits line. I just feel like that's not really something I'm interested in anymore, as I either want all or nothing, in the sense of I want to be friends with you, but if you want more than that, then it needs to be a relationship. I'm kind of sick of the whole idea/institution of random hookups and one night stands. I'm kind of in a place where I find myself needing constants in my life.
As a friend reminded me in comment to my melancholy mood, I'm still in school, and life doesn't really start until you graduate. I agree with that statement to some degree, yet at the same time question the validity of needing to set a "start date" to one's life. I have a life, albeit a very busy one, yet if I have wanted to fit something into my agenda, I can certainly find the time for the things and people that I love, and in that sense life hasn't stalled.
I don't know what I want, but I'm lonely, and I guess I want something. I think I'm finding more and more that any measure of certainty would certainly be better than the currently floating current of turmoil and absolute uncertainty that I seem to keep finding myself in, yet I can't help but wonder what it is I'm really looking for. I've spent a very long time in grad school figuring out who I am, and while I seem to temporarily get pulled away from that by the inevitable distractions of life and the pursuit of meaning, I always come back to a ground that seems to be more morally firm than the one that I left.
I am not a prude, yet I believe that for everything in it's time there is a proper place, and perhaps I am old fashioned in that I don't want to meet the drunk frat boy at the party and take him home for a cheap and meaningless evening that will inevitably end up with me feeling tortured over the whole event. I seem to live in a place of guilt, and while I try to escape that, I also realize how hard it is to escape that from time to time, as I feel moored to making current choices based on the precedent of those that have come before. And while to some degree I have changed, the immoral temptation to fall back into old habits appears to me on the edge of my vision as the oasis glimmers in the desert beckoning the unwary traveler off his or her inevitable path and onward to near-certain demise. And yet if you try to ignore the oasis and pretend that it is indeed only a fictitious mirage clouding your judgment, you cannot help but wonder whether or not you have missed out on something important.
I feel like I'm missing some minute detail; the tiniest connection or the most intricate gear in the works of a clock, and while the clock pretends to plod ever onwards, in reality it loses time merely by the fact that it is missing part of itself. And while I fear that I've found myself, I fear that I don't know myself well enough to know if that gear is missing and hence I deserve to sit on the shelf as an aging relic of something gone slightly amiss. And while certainly no one wants to sit on the shelf, one needs to wonder if perhaps it is the best course of action after all, in that one would otherwise need to risk uncharacteristic action that would further diminish the capacity of the usable functionality in the world at large.
It's a conundrum, and at present moment, one I see no escape from. Many people argue they have free will, yet I argue for a pre-destined pathway, in that the evidence stacks more on the scale weighted in the favor of pre-determination. Would that I could choose, I would have the freedom to make escape from the path inevitable, but as I feel I do not, I am forced to make the non-existent choice to sit and wait for change. For while I cannot affect my own path, I can still interfere with the paths of others, some of whom have need of it and some who do not. Perhaps then it is right that I walk alone, for there are days when I have no strength and must fall to my knees and crawl, and others where I choose to run on all fours, the wolf chasing the uncaring moon across the sky with darkness licking at her heels, and still others where I plod weary and broken by the seemingly unending inevitability of it all.
La razon de las lagrimas: