The Myth of Love

Love is the primary topic of movies, songs, books, and most major family dinners during the holidays; but is it something that we should yearn for?

I was fortunate enough to grow up with my great grand parents, they were two people who loved each other very much. They were also full blooded Mexicans, with at least 23 siblings between them and they had four kids of their own. My great grandmother was a firecracker and could drink anyone under the table. My great grandfather was a prankster and soft spoken.

They fought often and very loudly and were not afraid to cause a scene in public.

They hid the fact that my great grandfather had almost daily seizures during the last year of his life, with an inoperable tumor.

He died quite suddenly one night, it was a shock to most of the family. I remember the adults were huddled around him as he lay dying on the bed, all praying for his soul.

My family is extremely catholic. EXTREMELY.

A month after the funeral I walked into their house to my great grandmother sobbing on the floor over a stack of bills because they were the last set that would come under his name.

She only told me that she met him before he left to fight in France during World War II. His family had just moved from Mexico to Texas and finally to California. She lived on the Sycuan Indian Reservation, they met one night by chance and she said that she knew he was the one for her. He was handsome and she was beautiful. I asked him once what his wedding day was like and what she looked like, and he said:

"I see my bride now, she looks the same."

Less than three months after he died, my great grandmother withdrew into herself and their home. She stuck to a schedule of meeting friends and family every week. She did the same thing every day and it was like she was on autopilot. She lived another ten years, suffering from cancer and Alzheimers, she was never the same person again.

I was able to see two people who were so passionately in love and were married for over 70 years, they never strayed and never had a serious fight that made them separate for even a night.

And my great grandmother completely shut down after he died, she barely lived at all.

I can't imagine being with someone as my partner for so long and then completely losing myself and my identity when they die.

When I'd see her, and she'd forget who I was and talk about her husband as if he was still there, it broke my heart. I swore I wouldn't be consumed by my partner if I got married.

I didn't believe in true love, and I still don't, no love at first sight and no love that could consume souls beyond the edge of time. There's no fairy tale romance and if a woman marries a prince, she will spend the rest of her life being hounded by photographers and journalists who will criticize everything she does until she dies, from eating avocado toast while pregnant to the nail polish she wears. Fairy tales are for children and headlines, no one lives one.

I dated a guy for almost six years because while it wasn't a great love, it was love and companionship, I was happy enough. It wasn't passionate all-consuming love, but we worked. But then, when we'd talk about the future, he'd swing back and forth more than a see-saw. He just told me one day that we'd never have children, even though we had talked about it for years and argued about names for kids, he just decided that we wouldn't have any. I tried to talk to him about it but he was firm and stood his ground. He thought I was pregnant one month, without even asking me if I was or not, and he called Planned Parenthood to schedule me an appointment to get the operation to get rid of it. When he told me about the appointment, at a very public restaurant in the middle of eating, I choked on a salmon roll. I told him I wasn't pregnant and the only thing he said was that at least now he didn't have to spend $500.

I spent so many nights waiting for him to get home so we could go out, only for him to never show up. Within a year, we broke up. I stopped trying to fix everything in our relationship, and for six months I waited for him to try and help with anything. And nothing.

We ended things amicably, and I wasn't sad or heartbroken, I just felt less confined.

Then I met a man who gave me passion. He kissed me and everything turned upside down, it was more than lust, it was this all-consuming flame that amplified everything around me. I wanted him more than anything, I felt things that I had never felt before and I wanted him to be my everything.

But, I wasn't enough. No matter what I did, I was second to everything else in his life. His job, his family, his car, his hobbies; I was competing against everything for just a scrap of his attention. I waited in so many restaurants for hours for our dates. I once waited for four hours and when he did show up, I'm pretty sure the wait staff spit in his food.

I ended it, I wanted a place in his life and he wouldn't make me a priority, in any aspect.

That broke my heart.

I loved him. We had so much in common, we had the same sense of humor, he could make me laugh and feel things I didn't think I ever could. And even when his family approved of me, he still put everything ahead of me.

My heart broke. I broke up with him because I had to regain my own self respect, how could I be with someone who didn't respect me? I put some much of myself out for him and he never did the same.

I'm just not sure what I even want anymore. More than passion and love, I want respect. I want someone who will do everything they can to keep their promise. Someone who won't tell me what I want or what my opinion should be. Someone who will apologize when they've messed up. Someone who's not afraid to go toe to toe with me.

I dont want a perfect person, I want someone who's perfect for me.