So i've been spending quite a lot of time in the last week watching HBO's not-so-newest offering, Tell Me You Love Me.
The
official page tells us that this 10-episode drama is a provocative and honest exploration of intimacy, offering an unfiltered look at 3 couples as they navigate critical periods in their lives. 3 couples — one in their 20s, another in their 30s, and one more in the 40s. rather unsurprisingly, the complexities betwen the twenty-somethings, Jamie and Hugo, have intrigued me more than those of the other two couplings.
Jamie and Hugo were a couple about to get married, until their disparate takes of fidelity and commitment finally hit them. The engagement was broken off, and the impending wedding called off. Throughout their relationship, sex and intimacy had served as an drug-like escape for them. Nonetheless, after her heartbreak, Jamie was still partaking in generous amounts of fornication, though obviously not with Hugo.
And then one day she went to a therapist, you know, in an attempt to heal herself. During one of those therapy sessions, she said something, something which struck me, she said, "I define myself through Sex".
I find myself spending the past two days wondering about what defines me. No, I doubt its Sex, nor Academic Excellance, nor Materialistic Conquests. I think I have the answer, I think its Intimacy, which according to wikipedia, pertains more to shared interpersonal moments than sexual interactions.
Z used to say that its not too good a thing. Not
bad per se, just not too good. I remember objecting vehemently, insisting that life is all about interpersonal relationships; after all, we do live in communities (that we can't extract ourselves from without partaking in other ones). But recently, I find myself saying, fuck it, go ahead and do your own shit. Because it'll end up the same anyway — another boy, another year, another wasted love story.
Sometimes I wish for someone to tell me that Academic Excellence defines me. Something a little more within the control of our minds, something much less to do with entangled heart strings pulled tight.
I can't decide if having Intimacy define me (if i could choose) is necessarily a good/bad thing. It's probably that troublesome shade of gray, knowing how things are in life. I can't decide if I want to stay sane and unloved, or allow myself to be sucked into that great whirlpool of emotions again. The latter sounds appealing, how else can you spend the remnants of your youthful years!
But sometimes (now), you think, that your heart can't endure another heartbreak anymore. And that this is it. No more. You're sick of that sinking feeling in your stomach. So for now, perhaps the best thing to do is to lay down and get some rest. alone. Forget about that horrid msn conversation and that cold, distant phonecall and smses. Tell them to go away. Surely they can find other company. You know that they've got plenty around.
