I'm currently reading a book titled Special Topics in Calamity Physics (go here for a review of it, it's not exactly what you'd think by reading the title). I'm only about halfway through, but I've enjoyed reading it and would recommend it even without knowing the ending*.
The reason I'm bringing this up is that I read a passage this morning that perfectly sums up my take on relationships.
"I'd never contemplated relationships very much (Dad said they were preposterous if I was under twenty-one and when I was over twenty-one Dad considered it Fine Points, Minutiae, a question of transportation or ATM location in a new town; "We'll figure it out when we get there," he said with a wave of his hand) and yet, in that moment, when I moved past Milton and Joalie, both of them smiling confidently in spite of the fact at distances greater than fifteen feet they looked like a gorilla walking a teacup Yorkie, I actually felt awed by the remote possibilities of the person you liked ever liking you back a corresponding amount. And this mathematical conundrum started its long division in my head at breakneck speed, so by the time I sat down in the front row of AP Calculus and Ms. Thermopolis at the dry-erase board was trying to wrestle to the ground a robust function from our homework, I was left with a disturbing number.
"I suppose it was why, after years of playing the odds, some people cashed in their measly chips for their Zach Soderberg, the kid who was like a cafeteria, so rectangular and brightly lit there wasn't a millimeter of exciting murk or thrilling secret (not even under the plastic chairs or behind the vending machines). The only saturnine miasma to be found in him was maybe a bit of mold on the orange Jell-O. The boy was all creamed spinach and stale hot dog.
"You couldn't make a grisly shadow on his wall if you tried."
I cashed in my measly chips once before (albeit without the years of playing the odds, and it was for someone with too much "exciting murk" and too many "thrilling secrets"). It didn't work out all that well. While I don't wish to repeat that experience, I don't want to end up with a Stepford Wife either (well, except for the impossibly beautiful part). The odds are most definitely not in my favor.
* If you want to check it out from the library on campus you may run into some confusion as I accidentally forgot to check the book out before leaving the building. Obviously, it won't be on the shelf even though the library catalogue will say it should be. I know the right thing to do would be to take it back and check it out properly, but I'm far too lazy for that, so I'll just return it when I've finished reading.
3 comments:
One of these days, the stars will align and the two of you will like each other at the same time. Usually, you give up and move on, and THEN they decide they are attracted to you but it's too late and you have moved on. It's a shame, really.
Not true...
In the relationships I've witnessed, you have to become overbearing when someone else is vulnerable.
Works like a charm.
You'll be happy to know that I've finished the book and have returned it to the library where they thanked me profusely for returning it instead of stealing it.
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