If I love you , you can have it all?

Have you ever loved someone so much that you lost your identity , so to speak. Elizabeth Gilbert mentioned that she would automatically "morph" into the person she loved. The provebial permeable membrane.

Eat Pray Love Chapter 22

... I have boundary issues with men . Or maybe that's not fair to say . To have issues with boundaries , one must have boundaries in the first place, right?

"But I dissapear into the person I love . I am the permeable membrane. If I love you , you can have everything. You can have my time , my devotion , my money , my family , my dog , my dog's money , my dog's time - everything . If I love you , I will carry for you all your pain , I will assume for you all your debts (in every definition of the word). I will project upon you all sorts of good qualities that you have neve actually cultivated in yourself and I will buy Christmas presents for your entire family . I will give you the sun and the rain , and if they are not available , I will give you a suncheck and a raincheck . I will give you all this and more , until I get so exhausted and depleted that the only way I can recover my energy is by becoming infatuated with someone else ..."

I do not relay these facts about myself with pride , but this is how it's always been.

 The fear of suffering , is worse than the suffering himself , Coelho wrote. But that's what we do , in relationships we cling to tightly and morph into the other person because we are so terrified to be alone otherwise ... the rest are so afraid of letting their guards down in the anticipation of some future heart break , infidelity or distance. But like Ketut said ... losing balance for love , is part of living a balanced life. I'm all for the wise words of medicine men , God bless him , but i'm sick of the close-ended statements about love , from the Bible , to canonical poets like Donne , classical poets like Ovid , Shakespeare and the rest ... If there is so much literature about it , then why do we suck at it? You wake up and the first thing you hear on the radio is ..." He did that , women are this , men do this , he didn't do this , they do that ... da da da ..." I read the paper and the living section has an article on : ten tips of keeping your man interested or something like that , it's so hard to remember those titles? Our entire society is geared to wire you to think about it at least twice a day ... 

So where are we going wrong? Do we become so engrossed in the other person , or the very idea and subject or it (ah l'amour l'amour). Because it is so elusive and slippery and sometimes dangerous , we can't get enough. What is it? Where is it? When can we get it? How can we get it? Who is it? We are turning into robots not feeling the right emotions and wired by what society is telling us to expect (flowers , chocolates , wine and trips et cetera) and then add the element that we are exposed to so much sex , whether you want to access it or not , it's there ... So on one hand women or in this case Liz , wants to give you everything, but what is she offering ? What is she getting back? Is it substantial and sustainable? Or will we'll we all get exhausted and depleted that the only way we can recover is by (insert here).

Are they in your bed? Depression and Loneliness

I've been meaning to buy Eat Pray Love but everytime I go to Bookpoint , I'm  getting the Writer's Digest that is 6 months old ( so that I can have it at half price 300 kshs) that everytime I open and see 750 price tag on it I cringe. But I was walking and someone was selling it in the street. The cover is faded and it has no markings on it , which makes me think it was bought before the movie was released ... I was meant to have it. If anyone out there has a book that used to belong to me , it has all sorts of notes and goofy things I wrote.

Depression and Loneliness , has a very profound presence in our lives , so when I read this chapter from the book , I felt so much better (strangely)  So to all of  you out there having the blues or the 'mean reds' , it is perfectly normal because with change comes transition and with that comes pain ...here is an excerpt from the book :

Eat Pray Love , chapter 16

Depression and loneliness track me down after about 10 days in Italy. I am walking through the Villa Borghese one evening after a happy day spent at school , and the sun is setting gold over St.Peter's Basilica . I am feeling contented in this romantic scene , even if I am all by myself , while everyone else in the park is either fondling a lover or playing with a laughing child. But I stop to lean against a balustrade and watch the sunset , and I get to thinking a little too much , and then my thinking turns into brooding , and that's when they catch up with me.

They come upon me all silent and menacing like Pinkerton Detectives , and they flank me - Depression on my left , Loneliness on my right. They don't need to show me their badges. I know these guys very well. We've been playing cat and mouse for years now. Though I admit that I'm surprised to meet them in this elegant Italian garden at dusk. This is no place they belong .

I say to them , " How did you find me here? Who told you I had  come to Rome?" 

Depression, always the wise guy says , " What - you're not happy to see us?"

"Go away ," I tell him. 

Loneliness, the more sensitive cop says , "I'm sorry , ma'am . But I might have to tail you the whole time you're travelling. It's my assignment."

"I'd really rather that you didn't , " I tell him , and he shrugs almost unapolegetically , but only moves closer. 

Then they frisk me. They empty my pockets of any joy I had been carrying there . Depression even confiscates my identity , but he always does that. 

Then Loneliness starts interrogating me , which I dread because it always goes on for hours . He's polite but relentless, and he always trips me up eventually. He asks if I have any reason to be happy that I know of. He asks why I am by myself tonight , yet again. He asks (though we've been through this line of questioning hundreds of times already) why I can't keep a relationship going, why I ruined my marriage , why I messed things up with David , why I messed up with every man I've ever been with. He asks me where I was the night I turned thirty, and why things have gone so sour since then.  He asks why I can't get my act together,and why I'm not at home living in a nice house and raising nice children like any respectable woman my age should be. He asks why , exactly , I think I deserve a vacation in Rome when I've made such a rubble of my life. He asks me why I think that running away to Italy like a college kid will make me happy. He asks where I think I'll end up in my old age , if I keep living this way.

I walk back home , hoping to shake them, but they keep following me , these two goons. Depression has a firm hand on my shoulder and Loneliness harangues me with his interrogation. I don't even bother eating dinner ; I don't want them watching me . I don't want to let them up the stairs to my apartment, either, but I know Depression , and he's got a billy club , so there's no stopping him from coming in if he decides that he wants to.

"It's not fair for you to come here," I tell Depression. "I paid you off already . I served my time back In New York."

But he just gives me that dark smile, settles into my favourite chair , puts his feet on my table and lights a cigar, filing the place with his awful smoke. Loneliness watches and sighs, then climbs into my bed and pulls the covers over himself , fully dressed, shoes and all . 

He's going to make me sleep with him again tonight , I just know it.