On The Desperation of Valentine’s Day

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 And in the end it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years. – Abraham Lincoln

 

It is true: men lead lives of quite desperation. 

 

That desperation is pain.  We want lives of fulfillment, but we are wracked with guilt over past experience, saddled with baggage of lost choices and smelted in the fires of unforgiving compromises we’ve made, so that we’ve come to where we are.  

 

Those that talk about the pain they are in, we want to silence; for don’t they know their pain is not the only one that exists? What about the pain of the listener?

 

I recently envisioned a scenario where someone wanted to speak about the fact that they were floundering, only to recognize instead, those that she would talk to are infact barely holding on themselves. whether their demons are how a good thing was lost, or how they have let themselves stray into unknown relationships with those who are undesirable, or even if the relationship they are in, can indeed be saved, they are just an example of an ever expanding circle of other people, trying to hold on to the very little they have an actual say in.  

 

I believe that Valentine’s day is perhaps one of the worst days in the world, for those in this situation. Among social creatures, the day itself is a reminder to everyone else that they do not have, that very special someone to make themselves complete.  It reminds them that perhaps their special someone is not for them.  It can be seen as a good day, where all the doubts need to be examined and taken up into a new light, but even so, what follows is that one has been foolish all along, and that they have buried their head in the sand instead. 

 

And there is little one can do when the other part of themselves refuses to communicate.  As another popular lines states “Why won’t you talk to me, you never talk to me, what are you thinking, where do we go from here..”

 

The problem is, “You don’t have to understand here, to be here.” But we must all instead understand that now that we are where we are, only forgiveness and understanding will allow us to move on.

 

And our own pain remains, unresolved; so much so, we desperately seek ways to end it.   All men do indeed live lives of Quiet desperation. A never ending circle, with a brief respite of love. 

 

OceansOfThought @ February 10, 2008