Reserving judgments and infinite hope

They say you should never meet your heroes.¬† That should probably also extend to cover dating¬† your crushes.¬†¬† I’ve recently had a few dates with someone I first met two decades ago and who has carried a little torch for me ever since.

I am sure that with every interaction the image he’s built up of me over the last twenty years is slowly but surely being eroded, and the pedestal I was unwittingly on is being chipped away.¬† That’s not necessarily a bad thing; from my perspective anyway.

I’m a fiercely independent, healthily quizzical (some might say cynical…) realist with an established sense of self.¬† I am also not the same person I was in my late 20s when we originally met and I suspect this may be something of a revelation.¬† Who could live up to the pressure of an idealised version of themselves though?¬† Indeed, to quote F Scott Fitzgerald, There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams — not through her own fault, but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion.

But perhaps I’m being unfair.¬† I’m not used to being the object of someone’s affection in this way; never before been someone’s muse and I think this makes me extra sensitive to reactions and responses; not the best combination with my already over-analytical brain.¬† I know that usually I am a bit of an acquired taste, and am well aware of my own feet of clay, so I struggle with someone just liking me regardless.

Within my friendship group there are some very healthy relationships with couples finding the path to bring out the best in each other – the whole definitely being more than the sum of the parts.¬† That’s the synergy I hope to find for myself in my next serious relationship. ¬† Perhaps I am also guilty of pedestalling¬† (I’d hesitate to label it as self-sabotaging) and comparing each of my relationships to an ideal that no-one will be able to match.

I’m not one for making New Year resolutions, but I probably need to be a bit more open minded this year in my romantic escapades to prevent repeating previous mistakes or unfair judgments.¬† While thinking about this piece I have had the last paragraph of The Great Gatsby buzzing around my head so will finish with that.¬†¬† With Jay Gatsby’s long-nurtured, obsessive love for Daisy Buchanan being pivotal to the plot, it’s not entirely unrelated.¬†

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter – tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms further… And one fine morning —–

And so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

F Scott Fitzgerald – The Great Gatsby