I sat in the back of Destination, my arm around Emily, as she asked me how I could be such a hopeless romantic and an asshole.  I started to tell the story of the former love of my life; a story that contains vignettes that have her filled with such vitriol that she behaves in ways that few can believe.   Emily’s expression matched most – shock.  The fact that I described it as “romantic” is probably the answer as to why I can be both such a hopeless, yet extremely cynical, romantic.

And they adored the dragon, which gave power to the beast: and they adored the beast, saying: Who is like to the beast? and who shall be able to fight with him?

A few nights earlier, similar scene – different company, I sat honestly struggling with explaining certain aspects of my past and current relationships.  I feel that there is this pull to put definition into things that can not be defined – they are sick of the ephemeral and put rules and restrictions in order to avoid it.  And, as my previous posts illustrate, I am not absolved of that sin myself.  But, as I sat there want for words, I desired to explain everything I could about relationships.  I told them that you couldn’t force relationships.  I said you should just do what you want to do in the moment, because of the fact that most relationships fail.  I was called bitter.  I see beauty in the failure of relationships.  I see something deeply profound…

“The Beast and Dragon, Adored” is a reference, ultimately, to the apocalypse.  While the term is often used in conjunction with the end of the world, its true meaning is “a disclosure to certain privileged persons of something hidden from the majority of mankind.”  Isn’t that what love is?  When you go back to the greek origins of the word, you get “The lifting of the veil” which I can’t help but make parallels to bridal traditions.   I can’t help if I am drawn into a world that balances destruction with romance.  I can’t help it that I see Atlanta burning and I think “Gone with the Wind.”  Or the sinking of The Titanic and think of Leo.   I’ve been conditioned.  Even my conditioned has been conditioned.  And, as I evolve out of my selfish decade of my 20′s, I can’t help but wonder if this is a handicap or a realist bent that will allow me to appreciate the fruits of my laborious love life come to fruition.  I guess this will serve as my testament, my Book of Revelations….