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Do you believe in destiny?
If you've seen that episode of Friends where Phoebe thinks a British cheese factory owner and Monica are soul mates, you'll know the two sides of the argument clearly. When you see a well-established couple together, you may wonder if whether their seemingly natural compatibility sprouts from having a strong, deep-seated chemistry, or whether it is a testament to how much they tolerate each other's flaws and learn to appreciate each other's differences.
It's hard for me to say whether I believe in fate bringing people together or fate bringing good things to my doorstep. Think of it like agnosticism, replacing God with the concept of destiny. (I am agnostic in the common sense of the word as well, though.) I just don't know.
On the other hand, there are friends that I have that are so chemically compatible with me that it's incredibly difficult for me to say that that came about by random chance. There is no need to work hard at anything, because it naturally works so well. How is it possible that these people who have been brought up differently, in a different place, by different parents, can get along with me so unbelievably well right from the getgo?
I fluctuate. Sometimes I believe there are ghosts watching our every move. Sometimes, I think we just die. Sometimes, I have faith in an almighty God, and I really, really do a few good deeds, in fear of going to Hell. And at other times, I think microbiological and astrological evidence prove that there certainly is no Lord. And sometimes, when I'm thinking about the close friends I've had, or the good life I have, I believe that that has to be fate - in no way did I earn that, it came to me like a blessing from God. And at other times, I think destiny is a load of poppycock. I worked hard to get to where I am, I made an effort to keep all my relationships healthy and intact.
Destiny. What an interesting idea.
By the way, I've decided to change all the titles of my blog posts here to begin with "On ________". Oftentimes, I'm not quite sure what to call my entries, and I feel that with this new style of appellation, this new idiosyncrasy, it will help me in the art of naming my blog posts.
Today, I want to talk about couples, and not being in a couple, but being around them. Recently, I've become friends with a couple, and I really like how I can just mosey into the girl's room and watch a movie with the two of them. I like having breakfast with them every morning, and just hanging out with them if I don't want to stay in my room by myself.
I like being friends with both individuals of a couple, and over the years, this has often happened. It's nice to hang out with them as friends, to see their sweetness that they probably wouldn't display in front of others, to see how they feed off of each other's humor, their compatibility that you wouldn't have known had you not seen it working in front of your eyes, their synchronicity, their unity, is admirable, and pleasant to observe.
Obviously, I'm not allowed to hang around when they're gettin' busy, or when they're sharing intimate, personal information with one another. But to their command, I walk out of that room without feeling expelled, without feeling banished - it's okay, because I know it's between them. Just like I would expect them to feel if I was with someone.
There was a time when I had the chance to date this beautiful girl six years ago. She was Australian-Chinese, and we initially met in our first year of high school. When you spoke to her for the first time, you would know in your mind to place her in the 'cool' clique at school. She simply had that charm about her, in the fragrance of her hair, the apparent sincerity of her smile, the chipmunky cheerfulness of her voice, her whole aura, a kind of biological femininity that was especially crafted for luring male companions, for enticing men, but her kindliness and immediate congeniality not necessarily indicative of you two strangers turning into friends, or becoming something more.
I, on the other hand, went into high school open-minded, and lacking any predetermined social standing. I was one of those kids that had the potential to end up a studious nerd, a lonesome bully, a suicidal emo kid, a regular Joe, a friendly Tom, an outrageously gay socialite, a muscular jock, or one of those guys that are just as clingy as their girlfriends and that never hang out with anyone else because both members of the relationship are too mutually preoccupied with having to attend to each other's needs and wants every minute of every day.
It was conceivable for me to be that last guy - to end up with that gorgeous-looking girl, to hang out with her and her two younger brothers all the time on yachts and on beaches, surfing, building sand castles, summering with her family on the coast of Maui, Costa Rica or Cebu, to make out during romantic movies and feed each other popcorn, to hold hands as we walked through the school corridors and sat in classrooms, unafraid of displaying our sick, mushy love for each other, to have amazing secret sex in parks and on rooftops that would make anybody jealous if they heard about it, to curl up next to a fireplace on long winter nights, playing Monopoly, drinking hot cocoa and exchanging funny anecdotes, or perhaps sharing our thoughts on what life would be like if it were drastically different from the one we were living...
Despite all the images I could conjure up now, it isn't the way it turned out. The details aren't necessary for you to know (as I am ashamed of said details), but in the end, Jade and I (and everybody else) all attribute the non-existence of this relationship in history to my own foolishness. This could-have-been pairing is just one of those situations that belongs in dreams and alternate realities.
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