A Funny Relationship

This is what many have thought, but many have not done; what many will to do, what many are afraid to do; to love, to live, to deny our blind will! Have fun with this puzzle of human interaction.

Toiouta!

It is an interesting thing to watch a couple in the situation of “love”. Schopenhauer may have had it right when he claimed in his “Metaphysics Between the Love of the Sexes” that once one had achieved the one of his desires, a purgation occurs—that in which one of the partners feels that what was achieved is not what one really wanted. That is, what do we really want? Dostoyevsky in The Idiot inferred that love itself is much more complicated than we believe: we may love from pity or from a need for some kind of affection, even though it may be from a “lower” type compared to ourselves. Aristotle, in his Poetics, tells us about great art. Is tragedy the only great art? We may not know; however, Aristotle’s point about pity and fear is relevant. When we see art, it should arouse pity and fear, such that we have a catharsis so that we will not act like the tragic hero. But we all aspire to a kind of ideal virtue—whether it is moral or amoral—and it is furthermore complicated by passion. Some of us lie in bed at night wishing for that person that will be perfect. And when that happens, it seems that we have reservations and we are not so sure about a sure thing. This is where our tale begins. A man is alone: it could be any of who is lacking in value; a product of today’s culture of complications—a modern nihilist. But nihilism has changed since Turgenev. Nietzsche classified a positive kind of nihilist: one who is an active nihilist who aspires to a revaluation of all values. Nihilism really is the subject. We have learned from Turgenev, Dostoyevsky, and Chekhov that nihilism may be incompatible with our daily lives. But what about now? This is really all literature and philosophy. Philosophy has truly lost its power over people these days. Maybe things change; maybe Plato and Kant and others may be right in their convictions of universality, or it could be null—all for nothing!

I

“You know we cannot do that yet.” Patricia sighed with indignation.

“What are you talking about?” Michael asked. He already knew what was coming in this conversation.

“Well, we are supposed to wait until marriage…”

“But, I believe, we are human beings…” Michael began with his “dignified tone”, trying to reason with her, “Patricia, we have a special bond, and we should express ourselves with those kinds of feelings that we are . . . feeling.”

“I know”.

“I know you want it . . .” Michael looked at her with a kind a naïve gaze; a gaze that falsely covered his real intentions. His intention was base; an intention that goes beyond the conventions of morality and religion. It is a product of the will to power. This power Michael seeks makes most people gawk. He wants control over everything. Only time can judge whether his “will” is justified or not.

“Let’s wait for a while”, Patricia sighed indignantly.

“That is all right with me,” Michael said with confidence, “I just want you to know that we are human beings with desires and, above all, complications, and we should express those feelings with the utmost sincerity . . .”

II

He got a message: “I care about you, but I do not know if I can take this anymore. You have put me through a lot Michael…”

Michael sighed. He did not know what to think. Perhaps his lack of guilt bothered him the most. “I am hurting others. Who gives a damn about others! I have my absurd freedom! But why does my stomach hurt?” Michael concluded his thoughts by saying to himself that given the fact that he has no values, he should therefore be indifferent to others (especially their suffering). Of course this is a short term mood. Can one really live alone and be condemned by society for being a metaphysical rebel?

Michael walked down the street smiling. “Ha!” he laughed maniacally as he came to the liquor store. He felt good for passing his first test: Michael willed to test whether he could actually stir up a woman so much so that she would be utterly smitten; he hoped it would be a naïve girl (maybe a virgin) and see whether his influence could actually change everything she believed in. In fact he wanted to see if he could truly have the power to convince one—the power of persuasion. A revaluation of all values!

So Michael succeeded! Patricia was a pious Christian, and a virgin. Michael wanted to do her the favor of showing that her sin is just a construction of the mind:

“Patricia, sin is not real”.

“Of course it is.”

“But without minds would there be any sin?”

“I don’t know.”

“If God created everything, it would follow that sin was a concept that could exist without human beings, but I do not think sin is an issue without minds. Hell, if God created earth, why are there destructive volcanoes that kill innocent people. Tsunamis, hurricanes, bacteria! Does it only apply to human beings (which may be so), but if it were so it would be an inconsistent concept, because the same things that happen in nature may also equate to what human beings may do, yet for the former it’s a natural process, for the latter it is a sin? Don’t you see, without cognition, how could there be sin? Because only with cognition do we have conscience, guilt which are the precursors to sin.”

“I don’t want to hear your arguments. But you may have a point. Anyway, I have faith.”

She looked exhausted.

“You have faith,” Michael persisted, “would you kill your son if God told you to?”

“Of course not!”

“Abraham did it.”

III

Michael was nervous. He seemed nervous at the thought of her coming. He did not know why; it was as if he felt he was better than her but unconsciously she was better, hence the nervousness. So Michael made a double screwdriver. As he read his Hemingway novel, A Sun Also Rises, a cool feeling of longing came over him. He wished for the European adventure Hemingway experienced. Michael felt completely lost—as in the same way they felt in the 1920’s—lost in a world of important changes and massive developments and ridiculously incompetent fools running “states” without any idea. Michael thought, “Why cannot we have a philosopher-king, like Marcus Aurelius or Bismarck?” By then Michael was half-drunk on vodka and orange juice. Patricia arrived. Michael thought, “What the hell do I know?” He thought of that Woody Allen joke that he would not want to belong to any club that would accept him as a member—he wanted to be alone.

“Hey baby,” she said shyly.

“Hello, darling,” Michael said coyly.

They went Michael’s favorite sushi joint. Michael was well aware that sushi is a potent aphrodisiac. They chatted about small things. Michael was beginning to be frustrated that Patricia did not seem to say much. She just laughed and nodded while he flapped his mouth to fill the void. Eventually he realized that she seemed to be the right type for him. She was not too beautiful, not too thin. She seemed like a perfect kind of liberal girlfriend; but, as he found out, she was not.

They got back to his room in the hotel and slightly fooled around. Michael felt it was ridiculous they had not had sex yet, but he was willing to allow time to dictate that. Luckily, he had been drinking enough that he did not care.

They caressed each other in the bed. They smelled each other’s sweat and felt the synthesis of two beings being melded into one, yet there was a scent of discontent in the room. He was kissing her. She felt the pleasure of his tongue in her mouth. However, he really felt nothing was happening except a bodily exchange of fluids and a woman who loved him unfairly. Why was it unfair? Because he felt nothing from her infatuation. Is there something wrong with that?

“What do you think about me?” Patricia asked.

“I don’t know,” said Michael.

“What do you mean! Do not talk that way!”

“I’m sorry.”

“I think you feel that I am worthless.”

“I don’t think that.” I lied. “I just have a lot of other things to deal with.”

“But what about me,” Patricia looked down, into herself. What things do you have to do that do not involve me?”

“I have my work.”

“Your work is more important!” she screamed.

Yes, it is. “Darling, I need some time to think. Let me get back you.”

IV

It was after class. Michael had assumed the same droll routine of walking after class to his destination. But something struck him. It was his typical surge of sexual energy actualizing itself through a moment of social interaction.

“That was an interesting lecture,” Michael said sarcastically to two young women in the class.

“Oh yeah,” they both agreed. “She seemed to kind of push the neo-feminist agenda a little too far.”

Michael was surprised at their reaction. “Yes, she seems to bring the whole feminist issue into a ridiculous endeavor.”

The professor had shown a magazine cover of feminist leaders in town who were creating a lot of positive influence. To the professors dislike, the women were all photographed on a staircase as if being photographed from above. This would signify that these women were still being “looked down upon”.

Michael was interested. He walked with a woman who seemed to be open-minded enough to not buy into that neo-feminist exaggeration; although, she was not that attractive.

“I think you are very interesting,” said Michael.

“My name is Patricia.”

“I am Michael.”

Michael had already begun to contemplate. He looked far ahead. He thought about what his close friend told him (the retired psychology professor): in ten years what do you see yourself doing? He thought the same way with relationships; he thought out what may progress from his acquaintance with someone. Maybe that was Michael’s problem: he always looked ahead instead of looking at what is happening in the present, which is the only thing we are certain of.

“So you are a musician, are you?” Michael asked.

“Yes, I play the piano.” Patricia looked down. Michael looked on gladly because she may be the cultured girl he is looking for.

Michael and Patricia walked along; they seemed to be two people that connected on an intellectual level—but, that is not the complete story of a solid relationship. Michael had a problem. He wanted well-defined criteria for his women. Patricia fulfilled all of those criterions except the “cuteness” factor. This cuteness factor was an arbitrary part of Michael’s personality. Though he prided himself in being an intellectual and an individualist, he could not get past his superficial side. He subconsciously yearned for a stupid cute girl. So, after this meeting, he had begun to contemplate whether it was possible to have an intellectual relationship with one he was not necessarily attracted to.

Michael went home and had a beer. He got a call from a good friend. He ignored it and went for a swim while drinking a double rum and coke. He loved the aesthetic pleasure of his own simple enjoyments. He made himself another rum and coke and called his friend.

“How are you shithead,” said Tom.

“Well, I met a girl,” Michael said.

“How is she?”

“She is alright. She is definitely my type,” Michael said in a sobering way.

“That is great. Come over to my place and let’s drink some beer.

”Okay, sounds good. Go to hell.”

V

Tom and Michael were drinking in Michael’s living room. Tom asked, “What is going on between you and Patricia/”

“We are done,” Michael answered with grimness.

“I don’t think that is smart.”

“Why not?”

“What are you going to do?” Tom asked.

“Tom, I told you, I am just not attracted to her. And even though I took her virginity from her I do not feel to have an obligation because of that.”

“Okay, but what about the times when you are sitting in bed and you want to get laid?”

“You may have a point. Maybe I will try and work it out with her.”

Tom adds, “Because even if you cheat on her, you could have still made her feel wanted and loved—which is a good thing.”

VI

They sat on the couch together, cuddling. Michael certainly felt a warm feeling. But he had yet to be in public with Patricia. This bothered him. Was he afraid of bringing her into the public? Michael made a drink.

“Do you want a drink?” Michael asked.

“Sure.” Patricia seemed so naïve even in her response.

Michael made the drink and handed it to her.

“Do you ever feel like you are lost, Patricia.”

“Of course I do.” She replied without making eye contact.

“Like hell you do. You are a good Christian. Why would you feel lost?”

“Because I feel that human beings, and this earth, is a bunch of filth, and I feel that I can be lost in the midst of it.”

Michael frowned. “Your isolation is based on a hatred for this earth?”

“I just think that human behavior and nature and its powerful way of doing things is a sign of an imperfection—which shows us the need to accept Christ and look toward the glorious afterlife.”

“Good Christian—to deny what is before you.”

“Shut up.”

Patricia kissed Michael in good humor. She loved him. But, as always, love is one-sided. Michael could not love her. He tried to tell himself that he should accept her and eventually love her. Why is it that we cannot achieve an equal love? There is always one who gives more. It is too bad that so often one of the partners longs for something better, while the other tries to keep it together.

While Michael and Patricia locked their lips together, with he wet sensual

Caressing of two hearty mammals in love, Michael felt that there was no feeling at all—it

was almost as if he was once again going through the motions. “What happened to the

aesthetic feelings people have spoken of,” Michael thought to himself as he kissed

Patricia. “Is there something wrong with me?”

Michael had another drink after Patricia left the house.

Conclusion

This is how Michael conceived of it. The reality of existence is that we do not get what we really want. No one will ever really know why she loved him. Perhaps it will be a mystery. Their relationship was very episodic. But is not life itself quite episodic? But maybe this is human, all-too human because we always aspire for that which is higher; and, in the end, we find it is a meaningless endeavor, and the relationship between the individual and the absurd, indifferent universe continues. We really get nothing. But, Michael continues to go back to relationships. There are those that he sees that are monogamous and have long marriages, but is that right for him? Probably not the case—for he is the rebellious type that will have a quantity of experiences and not the quality that one experiences in true love. But Michael is the type that may not even believe in quality. Michael will most likely die alone (a fate most people will be afraid of); however, he is perfectly aware that we all die alone, with the fact that our own mind and conscience is the only thing we have to deal with. Is there an imperitive for a clear conscience? None of our relationships matter in the end. From this absurdity should we conclude that all human relationships are ridiculous? Certainly not.