Existentialism on a Two-Way Street

They say a relationship should be a two-way street; each partner should be entitled to their own voice to validate their stance in the relationship, which should sanction a firm line of communication -- and furthermore -- embody a distinctive comprehension they have for each other. But a two-way street goes hand-in-hand with each story having two sides to it; a parallel jurisdiction and a defining line that sets the two off in two seperate directions.

When you're stuck standing in the middle of that dividing line in the middle of a collision course, you're left with but a moment to accumulate your options. Do you cross? Do you stand there and wait for the crash? Do you step back and wait for another time to cross? A relationship is a two-way street, and much like a car accident; you know it's wrong to sit on the sidelines and watch, but can't help being intrigued to do exactly just that and find yourself consumed by the sight. Maybe this two-way street ideal we're taught about relationship really only suggests that each relationship is a crossing road. Often times you're meant to cross, but somewhere in between you get caught in the crash and become the victim of a human collision. And just like an accident, you exchange information(s) with them and leave the rest to insurance claims.

I guess in a sense the idea is that in life, you often find yourself at a crossroad and you have every intention to cross, but often get distracted by naive superficial things like men, or sex, or even dating and relationships. You bump, or crash in this case, into a person you couldn't keep your eyes off of to realize the accident was about to happen. And you're left with nothing but an intention. An intention to sanction this collision of human connection and try to make the best out of it; suddenly forgetting the track you were on and losing a sense of responsibility, au contrair to the self-sufficiency and stability you set yourself out for in the first place.

There's two sides to every story, in life, in law, and in love. But often times that two-way street becomes a one-way dark road when you crash and follow the wrong direction, in the form of a person sweeping you off your feet, albeit for the moment.

When it comes to relationships, where's the insurance policy to claim an accident of two people not meant to be?

Nothing but a Number

I guess it's safe to say that, growing up, I've always had an interest in older guys when it came to dating. My first boyfriend, Jonathan, was 16 and I was 13. My first sexual experience, Joe, was 23 and I was 15. My first love, Jason, was 24 and I was 16. Ultimately the list goes on, ranging mostly from late 20's to mid, sometimes late 30's. I can't really pinpoint it from a perspective of my younger, more adolescent self... But in my prime, I guess you can say a lot had to do with safety.

Growing up, I was always one step ahead of the average kid my age; mentally, emotionally, and certainly when it came to my perspective on life. I'm not saying I never tried dating my own age or even younger, cause I definitely did. It was never interesting. I'm sure that is just my being the product of growing up too fast. Society's legislature suggests a timeframe in which you should live certain phases in your life; for instance by law, you're allowed into (most) a club at the age of 18, but only allowed to be served drinks at 21. And growing up, I was in those clubs partying it out from 15 and onward. I guess it gets to a point where you outlive your generation and slip right into the next.

When it came to dating in my own age-group, there just wasn't much of a spark. Those in their late teens barely have any sort of idea of what they want out of life, and are all about exploring and experiencing. Those in their early 20's are all about the partying, "living it up" and bar/club-hopping, sleeping with countless other persons and indefinitely never being interested in settling down. I guess I found the most comfort with those in the mid-to-late 20's age-group. There's something to be said for the age of 25 and up. You're fresh out of college, just started your booming career, have your priorities in order -- and furthermore -- have reached a point where settling down with another person just might be in the picture. At least that's how I've always imagined it.

Over the years I've wondered what the real reason(s) were behind dating older or younger than yourself. When they say "Age is just a number..." it's no joke. We are personafied and dignified by the direction our lives may be in the current; the past is never something to delve into or dwell over, and the future is something we create to supplement where we are in our present. I've gathered those who date younger are still in the phase, contrary to common denomination, they were in with those of that same age; while those who date older have surpassed the status-quo, and want more fundamental things that again, contrary to common beliefs, are what a person should want in life at that age. There's a lot to be said for yourself by the way you characterize and represent your values and principles, and even more to be said when you live your life defying your age; acting and doing things outside of the proverbial box those in your own generation are "supposed" to.