If you never fell in love with an adolescent pop star or sitcom celebrity, was your childhood even real?
I have no shame in admitting that at 11, I was completely convinced Nick Jonas and I were meant to be. All I had to do was present myself and he'd fall head over heels for me, the way those silly pre-teen chick flick-esque books taught me.
It's still like that, for me, for my friends, for everybody. Yeah, your mom probably doodled a few hearts around Patrick Swayze's name in her day.
Why? Sure celebrities are gorgeous and successful, but they're strangers. Few of us really know what they're like, what they believe in, what their favorite breakfast cereal is. How can you love someone you don't know?
I have a theory. I believe that we're all born with not only the capacity for love, but the need for it. We fashion lovers from out needs and desires, our deepest secrets. I think we're in love all our lives with these apparitions. Then we go out into the world and try to find someone that can defeat them, so we love someone made of flesh and blood instead of smoke. A skeleton of bone and not fantasy.
Say your favorite Irish singer-songwriter walks by, a guitar slung across his broad shoulders, dark hair caught up in a man bun (how I adore man buns). If you're me, you're gonna wake up in a few hours in a hospital because you've blacked out by now. Clumsy oaf.
Why? What's the big deal? This kind of infatuation is beyond the bounds of any sort of respect or admiration for an accomplished musician (or whatever). It feels like love, but we've already established that it's not.
I mean, maybe it IS love, but it's not Hozier we're in love with. It's that shadowy figure that knows us. We think, because the songs strike a chord within us, the writer knows us to the core. We think, because he sings so passionately about things we care about, he must believe what we want him to. We think, because of his funny way of ducking his head and stuttering in interviews, the man is thoughtful, quiet, intelligent. He must be a good listener, because we think he's our knight. Because we want him to be.
We think, because he did a cover on Whole Lotta Love he's "the one".
But he's not. We as humans are doomed to dependence on others for completion. No matter how many words of empowerment the Emboldened Free preach, we are not born whole. That's why we make up these knights of ours, and dress them up as the people that strike our fancy. The danger today, what with social media aiding our finely honed stalking skills, we do get bits and pieces of their personality. Hozier probably IS a good listener, Jennifer Lawrence probably IS hilarious. The point is that we don't know; the "probably" is what sends sentiment crashing through the floor. We get a false sense of intimacy, so the obsession intensifies.
All throughout middle school (and still, tbh) I had the biggest crush on Robert Plant. Because I loved his voice, I thought I loved him.
Yes, I'm aware he's a good twenty years older than my mother. Leave me alone.
I needed someone strong and free, someone with the soul of a poet and a warrior because I couldn't me. That's what my knight became, a listening ear to a lonely child. He also had eyes grey like storms and hair like (young) Robert Plant's, but he wasn't Robert Plant.
When little girls love the Prince Charmings of disney movies, it's because they're depicted as strong and heroic- somebody to look up to.
Funny that the person who can finally replace our knight is usually the ordinary sort. Maybe he's a head shorter than you. Maybe she's thirty pounds heavier than your ideal, but its not outer beauty that matters, because remember how easily your specter shape shifted? You don't need green eyes, you need accepting ones. It's not big, red lips your savior will have, but rather lips that know how to tell jokes, maybe.
So when you fall out of love with someone, know that it wasn't in the cards. They weren't what you needed. Your knight was stronger than them. They entered your life so that the two of you could learn from each other, learn to love, lose, and leave. They're a lesson, not a soul mate.
I'll leave you now to wonder where the hell this all came from. Was I just recently dumped? Did I just watch an 80s rom-com? Is this a Hozier/ Dawes/ Mercedes Sosa induced state of distress?
Maybe.
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