I never thought the day would have come when I would go against my idols as a teenager, but I’ve lately been thinking that the Take That completely made a blunder with their hit “Everything changes”.
To all appearances, it seems the boyband is initially reinforcing popwise what Heraclitus had said a few years before with his Pantha Rei. Everything flows, everything changes. But to those who go on singing together with those 5 cuties (back then, and still now, I may add) here comes the surprise: “Everything changes but you”.
Now: I don’t know about you, but it’s years that I’ve been perceiving myself as a tornado, an energetic whirlpool of air that moves around capturing in its spiral all sorts of things and people. Ever changing. Last year I even got to the point of filling my bedroom with (fake) butterflies because I felt I was undergoing major changes. Is it only because I am a Gemini?
I’m not simply referring to tastes, opinions, interests, hobbies, living and working conditions… My body itself has changed. And I’m not referring to losing or gaining sizes as an accordion (ok, more gaining, than losing), neither to the fact that my hair colour must be done every 6 weeks to cover the quickly reapparing white army, nor to the appearance of those sweet eye wrinkles I’ve been working a lifetime to get. I’m talking about how one day you wake up and out of the blue you start craving….pomegranate, that you’ve never considered before in your life. I’m talking about the fact that the day I turned 30 my reaction to alcohol has completely changed. Earlier on I could drink, feel dizzy and happy. Now I drink, I drink, I drink, I keep drinking wanting to get to the happy stage, but I vomit before (not too classy, but at least I don’t get any headache the day after).
If our body changes so much, and our spirit, too… then maybe even the way we love. Or, more to the point I wanna make here tonight, the way we fall in love.
I often find myself saying to my female friends: “Yes, he’s really (fill as you think appropriate) but I know he’s not the One. I know it”. Miss I Know It All.
I know. I know. I know my ass! (nicely sized, more to the large, rather than to the small spectrum, quite firm, in case you wanted a short description)
“I know he’s not the One”. And the explanation I give is that it has always taken me between 3 hours and 2 days to be madly, truly, deeply in love. A friend pointed out that probably I should rather talk about infatuation, not about falling in love. Very good point. But the real point is… when this infatuation, or falling in love, does not happen in the ways I’ve known so far, I dismiss the guy as a potential love. I tell myself I should trust my instinct, and if I am not buzzing after the first or second date, it simply means he’s not the right One, because otherwise I would have sensed it.
Yet, all the times I fell in love, or got infatuated, it didn’t last, which brings me to my amlethic question. What if the One would come in disguise? What if he doesn’t correspond at all to my type, but insinuates himself in my thoughts with jokes, sarcasm, spontaneity, and whatever other secret weapons he might have? And, and this freaks me out a bit…what if I have actually already met him, and let him go because I didn’t feel any fire?
Whenever I hear stories of people who have been friends for years, and then out of the blue start having a relationship and maybe end up married, I shrug them off saying they cannot happen to me as it’s just not the way it works with me. But what if I’ve lived my love life like a horse? No, I don’t mean that I went with many stallions (I WISH!), I mean that maybe I look at things with blinkers, losing sight of all the side action.
This thought doesn’t last long, though. I know I always give chances to everybody (the last post should have proved that!), and quite a few chances, too. I also know that everything is perfect in the way it has happened. If I am still single at the eve of yet another Valentine’s Day (insert emoticon hanging from the chandelier. As in, suicided, not as in Sia’s song), it is because that bastard of The One has not crossed my path yet….. Am I right?
I know, so many questions and doubts in this post. I’ll ponder over them a bit more while sipping a glass of Prosecco. In the end, everything changes, but my taste in wine.
PS: Well, while we are at it, if you are one of the guys I know and think I’ve always been blind as fuck, could you pls man up a bit and let me know? Grazie mille.