January 18, 2009

  • I was intrigued by a post on Revelife that made a similar argument to my usual, though (if I read the post correctly) not as strong a position as I would have taken (http://www.revelife.com/revelife/689609680/if-she-were-a-little-more-attractive-i-might-datemarry-her.html?cuttag=true#cuttaganchor). Nonetheless, I was thankful for somebody to make the argument.

    The comments which followed utterly (as far as I saw) dissented with the writer. They argued that you must be attracted to the individual on some level, if you ever possibly hoped for anything. And, for a Revelife post (though I may be wrong, since I don't typically read Revelife), there weren't many comments.

    Well, I never expected to sway anyone, really. Some might argue it's a senseless point. At this point, I'd agree more than before. I've made the arguments, well enough that little else could be said which didn't border repetition (I would hope).

    The fact is, there is something, an aspect of a person's physical lining that you can find and be interested in, if it so suits you, nearly always. What I find "attractive" in a person has always been loose and somewhat fluid.

    You ever see someone who was stunningly gorgeous? You kind of looked at them and thought they were the standard of perfection? You'd get to know them and the face would become so commonplace that it doesn't stick out the way it used to. And then you'd see someone else, at some point, who - in that split moment you saw them - you thought was the standard.

    I wish I knew how to even begin to describe to you when someone utterly interests you, when they creep into your mind for days on end. And, it's like, you could hold a conversation for hours with a total stranger - just on that person pervading your mind. They are that fascinating and captivating that describing the facets of them draws others in.

    And when you peel them open (forgive the banana image), it's not so much a chore or this feeling of invasion - but sharing. Something so utterly sacred and personal that just to know it redefines your life and, perhaps, the way you think. And in the clutches of that raw honesty, you've formed this connection which cannot be severed, simply because you cannot forget what you saw.

    If you were to ask me of perfection, it seems it would take a lens to see it these days.
    Beauty like that is so much harder to find, so much more worthwhile.

    Tsk, but now I'm preaching.