Unrelated question: Am I a 'hater'?

There is this old ad; I can’t even remember what it’s for. There is a sepia-toned photo of a couple in the 60’s, and the heading says “unconsciously declaring you alive”. And honestly I’m not sure that the picture and the saying even go together, (This is bad advertising. That isn’t even a full sentence and it doesn’t correlate. Whatever.), but I think about it all the time. Parts of you unconsciously declare parts of me alive. 

I love it. I hate it.

We had just come back from the basketball game, and you were leaving my apartment. You were about half way down the hall when I caught up to you, because you’d forgotten your ring. I had it on because I love the feel of it on my thumb, but I also love how it looks on you. You leaned down and kissed me. I was wearing a ratty old t-shirt that you love, and you had on a black and grey flannel. It was quick.  Like something we do everyday.  You smelled like your moms laundry soap. And then you left to go home and I went back to my roommates.

That moment in the hall is what I was thinking about, that was all I was thinking about; when we were sitting on opposite sides of the dining room table, and I realized that we weren’t entirely friends anymore, and how that’s probably okay. But I couldn’t stop thinking about that moment and why missing you would also just be the worst.

It was the beginning of January, and “I hate your super negative attitude on us right now” was extremely upsetting to hear, considering there wasn’t exactly an “us” anymore, and I didn’t really want to be reminded of that.

I called you an ass the other day. Granted, I still feel like it was generally called-for. But I do also recognize that we need to treat each other better than we currently do. I love who I am 50% of the time when I am with you, but I’m also super unsure about the other 50%, and that scares me.

Nighthawks, by Edward Hopper. That painting reminds me of you.

I can think of specific eras in my life where I can actually pinpoint where I’ve changed. Like when I found John Mayer, or when I realized I could dress however I wanted, or when I discovered Amedeo Modigliani and his painting of the woman in the blue scarf. That painting shows that woman better than any photograph could. I think I have such a hard time describing a specific moment of impact with you, because you are tied into all of those other moments in some way or another. I hear “This is Gospel” by Panic! At the Disco, and I think of you, and I think of how annoyed I get when my friends think that they heard it from you first. I pop my clutch and I think of your car, black beauty (I hate that name), and I think of black beauty and I think of the grey-haired girl and I hate her too (because you like her.) And even though I think I’ll always be internally conflicted about you, it’s okay because I think I’ve figured more out about motives.

Let me explain: I had different motives when you weren't single, to when you broke up with your girlfriend. And I have different motives today than I did two weeks ago. I keep thinking about this talk I read and the title was “what if love was our only motive?” and that sentence radiates in my head, I think that if I hadn’t been so focused on other things, we’d probably be in a different situation right about now.

Also though, sometimes your motivation has to be self-interest. And it was around the ‘Mikey-Era-of-Modigliani’, where I realized that I was more passionate about the painting of the woman in the blue scarf than I was about working at our relationship and I finally had come to two conclusions: I realized that A. I need good people. I need people who want to be my people. But also, that B: Love should be the motive.

xo

M

PS. Read this: fourtydaysofdating.com. It is aesthetically beautiful and equally genius.           
PPS. Another unrelated topic: someone told me I talk so fast that they thought I was from the East. is this a real thing? Asking for a friend.