Love is stupid.

It leaves you breathless for no reason. It buckles your knees and at the worst times. It gives you heart-complications, literally. It makes you care none whatsoever about you’re own survival in this affair. It leaves you sleepless, and mindless at times.

… And that’s the point.

photo credit: notsogoodphotography

One of the most profound, and thought provoking things, I have ever learned [this week] came from a movie. The movie was somewhat well put together (it tended to jump all over the place and be stereotypical). But it was thought provoking, and drastically different. That movie was “Brief Interviews with Hideous Men” (I have to read the book). I won’t ruin the movie for you, because if anything you will learn a lot more than I can tell you by watching it firsthand. But there are two stories (retold/revised) about rape (this is where they thought provoking part comes in) that came out of me watching it, and that must be shared with the you, the world.

The FIRST STORY:

Imagine you are a girl who is heading out to her first college party. You’re probably overwhelmed with anticipation. After tidying up, you arrive at the party and everything proceeds to go as planned. People are having fun, getting drunk, the usual. Now you catch the eye of a handsome young man staring at you from across the room. After a bit of foreplay back and forth, he beckons you to come with him to a private corner of the room in order to get to know each other better. You come. After talking for a while, you find him funny, charming, and trust worthy. You lower your barriers, you can trust this one.

Time passes, and you find yourself kissing him. His lips are soft, warm, and consuming. He’s holding you tight, and by now the body heat and sexual energy between both of you is now at an all time high. Suddenly, he pulls back. Smirking, he tells you to follow him, and grabs your hand. Gladly, you accept his holding of your hand while he leads you upstairs towards one of the many bedrooms. He opens the door, it’s dark. He leads you towards the bed, and you continue your make out session. But, before anything serious happens, he pulls back, and whispers “I’ll be right back” right before he leaves the room. While waiting for him to return, you take off everything except for your undergarments; you want to surprise him. You lay on the bed, and wait.

After some time he returns, but he’s not alone. There are three other guys with him standing right behind him. They seem to be blocking off the door. Suddenly realizing the situation you’re in you almost faint, but you hold yourself together. You can get through this. After all you can scream and someone will hear you. But, right before you scream, they all jump you. They hold you down and gag you. They then each proceed to rape you, individually one by one, while you lay there crying and helpless, while the two onlookers stare and laugh. Once done with you, they leave. Not even bothering to clean up. The last thing you remember seeing, is one of them looking straight into your eyes right before he closes the door. You saw no remorse in those eyes.

Ten years pass, and a journalist, hearing of your story in the news archives, comes to your house and, with permission, interviews you. She asks you whether or not you would change how the night turned out. Shocking and surprising her, you answer no. She asks you to elaborate. You tell her that you would not change a single thing about that night because through that rape you had found yourself. By being raped, you had experienced the worst thing imaginable to you, and survived. What else would could you fear afterward?

The SECOND STORY:

Now imagine that the rape had never happened that night. Imagine that you had never met the guy, and fallen for his trap. Imagine that the party was instead boring.  The entire night you were sitting in a corner drinking from an overly priced bottle of beer. Soon, deciding that you’ve had enough of this ‘party‘ (if it could be called that) you decide to put on your jacket and leave. Even though the clock reads 1:00 AM, your own dorm room is close by, so you decide to walk the distance.

While walking, you hear feet shuffling behind you. But, before you can turn around and see who it is, you feel overly sized hands grab your throat, and cover your mouth, preventing you from screaming. You feel yourself dragged and hauled into what you presume to be a pick-up truck. The hands release you, tie you down to the truck, and after being secured so that you cannot move, you hear the truck start up and move.

You have no idea where you are going. But deduce that if you hope to have any chance of surviving this night, you have to get the “homicidal rapist” to feel emotionally connect to you. So afterwards, when he stops by his (presumed) house to pick up his tools, while sharpening his tools and setting up his gear, you stare at him in a loving manner. You continue to stare in this manner even when he re-enters the car, drives off, and stops by an abandoned cemetery.

He hauls you out of the truck, and throws you onto the ground. You do not protest. He proceeds to unzip his pants. You do not protest. He proceeds to enter you and rape you. You do not protest. In fact, you continue looking deep into his eyes as a lover would his spouse. Noticing your gaze, he realizes that you are not, as most would be, terrified or shocked by him. Feeling emotional he proceeds to cry. And you comfort him. All this while he is still raping you.

Once done he zips up his pants, enters his truck, and drives off. You are not dead, you have survived. But in your survival you have realized something. You realize that in that moment, while he was raping you, you connected to his inner being, his real inner being, and accepted it fully. You realize that you saw him, in all his sins, and accepted him. You realize that you now know what true love means. And, you realize that you have never truly loved anyone before.

In one scene you define yourself. In the other, love…

We all know women keep certain things from men (men from women too but that’s later), not a surprise to many of you. Here’s a few of them:

1. My best friend knows everything.
2. Even if i insist on paying/splitting the bill on our first date. I’ll think you’re cheap if you let me.
3. I sleep/keep your clothes because they smell like you.
4. I’ll never tell the truth about how many guys I’ve slept with.
5. I’m constantly testing you.
6. I masturbate. Maybe, As regularly as you do.
7. I think about sex with you. A LOT.
8. I’m as nervous about commitment as you are.
9. I like to make you jealous. A little.
10. I like it when you lead. In the bedroom and out.
11. I’ve fantasized about having sex with you before we actually did. Countless times.
12. I still compare my ex-boyfriends to you. You mostly win.
13. My body is not naturally this hairless. You’ll never know how hard I work to keep it that way though.
14. I’ve seen your porn stash/websites. I find it hilarious.
15. You’ve made me cry more than you will ever know.
16. I like it when you talk a little dirty.
17. The more I like you, the less likely I will sleep with you quickly. Alcohol will ruin this plan though.
18. I need constant reminders that you want me around.
19. I start fights with you because I’m feeling ignored. I’m trying to force emotion out of you.
20. If I’m going to break up with you. All my friends know before you.
21. I get hit on more than you realize.
22. I’ve done at least one thing I would rather you never know.
23. I fake it sometimes. More than you’ll ever know.

Women aren’t alone in this though (I foresaw the sexist comments I was about to receive), men also keep things from women. The next post will list some of them. And if you agree/disagree with the list leave a quick comment and tell dancePROOF (me) why you do or don’t.