The Last Look and the Grain of Salt

I've been watching Sex and the City season three for the past couple of days. Aidan is my hero. Aidan is the biblical hero in every woman's religion, and there is nothing one can possibly say to convince anyone otherwise. He's patient, and kind, sexually and emotionally mature, and he's a great communicator (surprise, surprise--JS was a horrible one). Where else would you find such a guy? In a sketchy hotel affair around 56th and 8th?

And though I was nervous from beginning to end about the affair, I began to think of two possibly unrelated things: point of views, and the last look. 

Point of Views

As I continue to brave the "Running with Scissors" episode, I began to wonder why I'm so nervous and uncomfortable with the idea of cheating? Why is it that every time I think about it, I only get butterflies in my stomach, and not the exciting adventurous sexual conquest of a paramour? 

I know why. Two years ago, I would have been excited with an affair. It meant constant undulating thrill, like a summer breeze or a sweeping autumn wind. It meant freedom--sexual, ego-boosting freedom.

And I did it. Once. 

And then I became sexually frustrated. I was more afraid of being the bad guy, than thinking how hurt my partner would be if he ever finds out. It became my biggest fear. I wasn't going to be hurt. Not by my partner leaving me. I was ready to walk out. He would have been devastated, but I would have been fine. It was people's judgments that I was scared of. Their judging knowing eyes--and believe me, they do know.

But now all I can think of is the pain. Not my pain, no. If I'm having an affair, I will take responsibility for it: I deserve that pain. But my partner? I can't imagine cheating on anyone I love very much. He's my Aidan, the painstakingly ignorant Aidan, who I won't be able to comfort once the tale is out.

He will leave. And this time, I will be devastated.

It comforts me to know that I've changed my point of view. Affairs are always selfish; it's made only for for self-reaffirmation. And it's pathetic. But knowing how selfish one is should be able to make you stand your ground. And stay. Or leave. But not cheat. Cheating is not a last resort. It's unjustifiable. Love hurts, and love fades. It may return, but it will fade, and once you believe that it may never return again, then you shouldn't have the obligation to stay. Because it is not only you that's hurting, it's the other person. And they'd know. They always know.

The Last Look.

As Carrie was about to leave from the hospital, away from Big and bleeding, swollen Natasha, she turned around and looked at him. And gave him the last look. It may be a more familiar concept with many, but I personally began to explore the meaning of last looks from the movie Elizabethtown (Kirsten Dunst, Orlando Bloom). 

What is it? What does it mean?

It's saying goodbye for the very last time. It's the very last time that the feelings will be felt, the last time the circumstances will take place, and the last time the two people will interact the same way again. The last look. 

I've gotten closer to answering my last question: why the post-breakup what-ifs? What do we expect from it?

Nothing. That's my answer to the latter. It will answer questions, but if realised, it will be the exact same way, and we will feel the exact same thing. And we know this. And yet why do we want it? Why is it that the thought of an ex brings a certain feeling of anxiety that we can't help but to enjoy sometimes?

Familiarity. But that's not enough.

I don't believe that it's resolved unless the last look is involved. One defining moment when both parties realise that the end is no longer near, but it's happening. It may last 5 seconds or 5 minutes. But it's the look that said, it's over. We'll disconnect as soon as one of us turn away, and nothing will be the same. Not the relationship, not the feelings, not the individuals. It's specific, it's brief, and quite possibly the only physical gesture both parties will understand. 

JS and I didn't have that. As I look back to the last time we saw each other, I became more and more convinced that there were no last looks. I may have been wrong. Perhaps all I wanted is to see what I only want to see. 

I was sure there were no last looks. And this is why it's not truly over between us in terms of that. Until we meet again. And then, closure will happen without a word being said.