Unearned Aphrodite: for my love-torn friend

Truly a tale of extremes, my friend. It breaks my heart to be reminded of that self-afflicted torment. Allow me to suggest an alternative: Momus, not Prometheus, is probably a more likely fit. For the mistake of finding Aphrodite the only one worthy and capable, thus deserving, of his (or anyone's) admiration, he torments himself and any around him for their falling short of acceptability. Love, in life, can seem a lottery of hearts, and we hear tales of those who profess to have won. They present themselves to mock our loneliness. Just remember that lottery winners pay heavy taxes--it's not as it appears on the surface. The tales of pure love are often tall, and just as children dream of astronauts and princesses, our mature dreams of passion and love can make our goal of a kindred spirit unrealistically lofty as well.

When we were young, our fathers put pressure on us to be our best, and the more intense the pressure, and the higher the expectations, the more likely we were to fall short. Why should a lover's engagement be any different? We are all but humans, not gods. To expect a commitment, especially to one who loves so deeply as you, to knowing every thread of your soul, to not only bringing forth her own very best, but to inspiring and motivating your very best as well--that's an expectation to rival our fathers' proudest dreams--as if we could ever achieve them.

And streets are lined with tents and sleeping bags--littered with the punished souls who were not granted their winning lottery tickets. I wonder if they look at people passing by--struggling day-to-day, working tirelessly, doing whatever it takes to feed their children, pay their mortgages, and stretch with all their might to reach just one more rung--and think, "Those lucky bastards!" And all the people passing by could pick out this soul or that, give them their days and their nights and their worries; but in reality, they will more likely pick out any one of those souls, and though they may search desperately for some speck of hope, end up thinking, "Why would I give a man such as this anything more than a few bucks for lunch?"

Those who wander the alleys and defecate in the streets so often ramble to themselves, flailing their arms and cursing every last thing, including the wind, are really quite similar to the politicians and lawyers with their arguments and speeches... "Listen, all who are near! Hear me and know this! For anything short of total agreement with all I say or believe, is..." what did you call it? "Mouths full of platitudes, meaningless blabbering with no basis in reality." To be perfectly honest, that was my favorite part--I've always had a soft spot for fatalism.

In truth, I was once you. I think a lot of people have been (if I may risk using myself as the norm). I'd wished for too long to believe that wishes come true. I considered for hours what I, too, called fate. And I threw it all on the winds and accepted it as my own. Then the very next day, The Boss came into my life, on what seemed like chance. It wasn't perfect or easy or completing or any other extremes but one-- it was hard work-- not hard in that I had to complete grandiose tasks or make life-changing sacrifices; it was hard in that I had to tell myself "yes" when so many times I thought "no." I convinced myself "stay" when my pride told me "go." I realized that this woman was not going to magically bring out my best, but that her love was going to require it--it was my choice, and my responsibility, to bring my best out of myself.

You see, my friend, it wasn't fate or karma which stood in my way--it was my own image of a love I didn't realize I had to earn to achieve--my unearned Aphrodite. In fact, truly, looking back, I've never met a man, woman, or child who I could not love--I only failed to allow it. I expected perfection and weighed each lover on that scale--not that they never had a chance--I just never gave them one. Those who win lotteries so often end up broke again, because their investment was only a dollar or two; but those who invest every ounce of their being into building a fortune others yearn to possess--a treasure they know through and through, which required their best and provided a fortune in return--they are the ones who will never, ever curse the wind.