I rolled my eyes, but I was disturbed by the lecherous smiles and suggestion that my friend and I were lesbian lovers, when we had embraced each other and held hands. I recalled references to the “faux lesbian dance” in television shows like Veronica Mars.
It was meant to be sexy. But we were showing affection for one another, not trying to entertain or seduce the group of boys that snickered in the corner. It has never occurred to me to employ the “faux lesbian dance” to win the attention of a man.
What does it say about our ability to sustain our relationships if we have to feed fantasies to become aroused? Where did our race stop loving each other with the timidity of the suitors of old? Why must we seduce our love interest by acting out a scene from a story by Zane?
Whatever happened to writing letters, throwing rocks at a window to get him to open it and smile? Why did we stop picking roses or some other plant just so he would wear it in his pocket? When did we dive into this vast ocean of the erotic, which threatens to swallow us whole? Many individuals suggest that the sex is better when couples share a fantasy or try new things, but whatever happened to romance?
I can’t help feeling that a fantasy is like the theatre: you get into costume, you say your lines, and you play a part. Sometimes you observe the other player/s, becoming the audience – a voyeur. And as such, you may become separate and uninvolved.
True, audiences can get quite involved in the action, but even if they take a lesson or a vivid memory with them when the curtain falls, they still leave the play and the players. It strikes me as less intimate than the great romances of yesteryear, where propriety was of the utmost importance – lovers cared for their reputation and handled each other with delicacy.
Today it seems like we wear less; but do more sexually; get together after a shorter period; but we do not stay in each other’s lives as long. And this makes me so sad.
I’m kind of the odd one out in most friendship circles, loving black and white films and musicals. But so much do I appreciate the way these capture love that I am okay with loving them all by myself.
I do not presume to tell anyone how to express their love for or attraction to another. But I feel like there is magic in romance; something about waiting and taking the time to really know someone, and to know that you have come together for the right reasons. It’s like working for the entire month and getting the salary at the end; running the race, then getting the medal; designing, then building the house, then living in it. It’s about making a huge investment, because you know and want its returns.
Perhaps the conveniences of our world make it so we don’t have to take that much time. And if this is so, let us tell our stories of love in our time; let us reassure the weary, the lonely, and the heartbroken! Let us make the skeptics believe! Let us share the names, or importantly, the spirit of the heroes and heroines of our time their hearts made of gold and bursting with genuine love, loyalty and devotion.