The title of this comes from an old Buzzcocks song where at the end this line is repeated over and over into fade. Valentine day is almost upon us and I felt it was a good time to have a wee look at love, what it means and does it exist anymore?
From my experience I generally categorise people – so far as love is concerned into: The Desperate, The Fumblers, The Broken and The Arseholes.
Let’s look at the desperate first: I’m no psychologist and I have no idea why some people become so desperate to find love. Perhaps their parents split when they were young or their parents just didn’t like them very much, who knows, but the desperate people seem to have a new “partner” every month or so and are in a terrible state when they get dumped. They are obsequious pleaders who may seem normal for a bit until perhaps a week into a relationship then they begin asking constantly if you love them, or asking where you were and what you were doing constantly, or why you never do this or do that. They desperately want everything now, and wrapped up in a big pink shiny bow and have no idea how to chill and just enjoy someone’s company.
Most can be nice folk and are able to enjoy others company in a social sense but as soon as they enter into a “relationship” situation their brain snaps and their crazy ideas of love rushes to the fore. They then try desperately to suck love out of the object of their desires; and no I’m not talking about sex, I mean like some big evil brute sucking souls out of folk in a movie. They try to grab it all at once and constantly need re-assured and more often than not become unable to function normally.
Everyone needs to be re-assured, that’s a fact, however; it is the constant need for re-assurance and suspicion and clingy grasping that makes the desperate, well a bit scary, making the object of their desire run like hell with visions of his nuts boiling in a pot or something. And just to clarify I’m talking of both male and female in a general sense – so might be visions of other anatomical parts bubbling in a pot. Hmm now I have a vision of two big boobs bobbling about in a boiling pot with carrots.
Some folk go through a bad period in their lives and become one of these desperate lovers, but it doesn’t last and they feel embarrassed about it later. It’s the ones who are consistently desperate who always get hurt. For me it seems that the problem they have is in not bothering to take the time to get to know folk properly. Most likely they have sex with people too quickly and believe that sex automatically means that the other person loves them. Everybody knows that the world is packed with mere “shaggers” who see a poke as the be all and end all of everything, so either you shag and enjoy it for what it is or you require the enhanced sexual experiences gained when you love somebody and they love you back. In the latter case, if you don’t shag anybody until they have been with you for quite a while (whatever quite a while may be) then at least you know they didn’t just hang around for the chance of a shag – well unless they are an ugly big bugger with no chance of a shag elsewhere of course.
Some folk for whatever reason are terrified of the world and people in it. They more often than not function within society, but the world secretly frightens them and their social lives and relationships are haphazard. Some of these people become loud and obnoxious, some drunks or other substance abusers and some become shaggers. Most of them spend their lives fumbling around in the dark until they find another fumbling just the same, then they cling to each other to support each other’s fears and fumble in the dark together.
These fumbling relationships often last for a lifetime and others who didn’t know the people involved whilst they fumbled in solitude, often look on in jealousy at how they manage. The problems in these relationships arise if one of them ever figures out how to switch the light on.
You might think that the desperate are broken enough so if I split them then the true broken might be scary freaky monsters; if more broken than the desperate. This is not normally the case. The desperate have allowed their need to be loved to take over their entire lives, the broken are a different breed altogether.
I have no idea how people get to be broken, perhaps they got hurt too many times, but generally you can hear them sneer about love and relationships, shout about their independence and they normally become shaggers.
Most of these people became disillusioned about relationships and love as they met too many arseholes (next category), and they began to believe that the arsehole’s way is the only way to be happy and not to get hurt. They shag arseholes or other broken folk then go their separate ways. Sometimes they even keep records of arseholes or broken folk that they can call for a shag.
Most of these people seem to be afraid of relationships and of opening themselves up to others. Normally you cannot find out much about them as they avoid discussion and will only talk on a superficial level; they are afraid of getting hurt so they keep everything bottled up inside and take no chances with relationships or love. Most never get beyond that state although may have regrets in later life.
There’s a song by Aimee Mann which goes “would you save me from the ranks of the freaks who suspect they can never love anyone”. These are the broken people.
Arseholes are the smarmy buggers who just want to shag, the sort who makes study of how the other sex works, their emotions, fears and likes. They then use these tactics to get a shag. You must have been in a crowd sometimes or other (whether male or female) and you saw one male smarmily wink across to a female in the group. Most women will normally tell you how much they like a winker, as that one small gesture immediately makes them feel comfortable in a crowd –especially if they are new. Other men in the know however look upon winkers as wankers and know exactly what their game is.
Some of these arseholes will actually listen to what you say or ask others about you then go do full research on it all so that you will be impressed- and all for a shag.
Sometimes male and female arseholes enter in to a sort of relationship. You can often tell them a mile off by their false affection for each other publicly displayed. It is over the top and often they will talk about their sex life in public too. Mostly they call their relationships “open”, which means that they both realise that they are arseholes, that love has nothing to do with their relationship and that it is one of convenience.
DOES LOVE EXIST?
Beyond all the categorisation does love actually exist and if so what is it?
To me love is about two people who seem to be on the same wavelength, who make each other laugh and feel good about themselves. Their thoughts and views are intriguing and you feel that you just want to know more about that person. You spend a lot of time together and you feel very comfortable with them. You trust them and know they are not an arsehole.
You feel yourself looking forward to being in their company and they let you know that they feel the same. When you have sex with this person it is somehow different from any sex you had before. You feel that you want to please this person and make them happy. You open up to this person and tell them your fears and ambitions and they tell you theirs.
You surprise each other often and show affection in different ways.
You feel that your life has changed in some pleasant way since you met this person and you wish to continue the adventure beyond what you understand. It is confusingly pleasant and you just want it to continue.
“Love is lies, love is ice, love is everything that’s nice, love is not as cold as ice, but that’s what love means to me”. – Another buzzcocks quote.