that thing called lurv by jetblue

i am posting here a post by jetblue, a reader i met in nyc two years ago! he's thinking of starting a blog. and after reading this, i definitely think he should!

that thing called lurv

As i mentioned in my facebook status update earlier, some of my friends are in varying degrees of heartbreak.

One just broke up with his boyfriend of six years who's in manila so he's focusing all of his energies onto boyfriend #2 in new york. The other is in a drama-filled on-and-off soap opera with a white guy who treats him/her (im not really sure) like dirt but he/she is holding on hoping the 5th time's the charm. The third is totally clueless and jumps from one guy to the other wishing to get a wedding proposal on his next first date hence the tailored armani suit. And the last is your classic late bloomer playing catch up on relationships who is certainly headed for an electrifying emotional defibrillation. At least twice a year.

I cant help but ask myself after hours of listening to their sob stories - which I'm obliged to do cause they were all there when it was my turn to play drama queen - why do we even bother? All this anguish cannot be worth it, right? Relationships, even at their best moments are ridden with stress. And pain. And wrinkles. So again, why do we even bother?

Mind you, Im just as guilty as the rest of them. In my ripe old age of thirty, Ive been through enough bawl-your-eyes out,really REALLY heavy post-breakup scenes that would put julia roberts (or judy ann santos) to shame. Endless nights on the phone with your boo-hoo crew, wondering why oh why it had to end this way and drowning all your painful memories in tubs of caramel ice cream and gaining more pounds than you care to admit.

But eventually the hurting ebbs. And it stops. You take a really long shower and you realize you're a hot, smart doctor with an almost-six pack and a smile that can send a dozen pudendal nerves on fire at the club and you get over it. And for a time you're free as a phoenix, dancing to your heart's content and knowing almost every cute boy's email address within a ten mile radius on craigslist. And you're happy. That is, until you fall for the next guy.

Deep down, I think its just in our nature to look for somebody who will be there for us - constantly - in ways that our friends and families never could. Someone who will see all of our imperfections yet think them endearing, and who will hold on despite our busy schedules, mood swings and smelly scrub suits thinking all the while that "hey, he's worth it." Its easy to blame hallmark or hollywood for perpetuating the notion of forever but we haven't really stopped buying it. And that is why the number one movie of all time is still Titanic. Deep down, we all WANT to believe that someone out there was made for us, who will gladly choose to sink beneath the icy depths of the ocean just to make sure that we survive.

So what's my point? Im not really sure now. I was on my way to the clinic this morning when I felt the familiar pangs of writer's diarrhea so i had to let this out. But anyways,I have to conclude this because gym is calling and I need to get a haircut. So again, why do we all persist and insist on falling in love despite the almost 98% chance of ending up getting hurt? I have no effin idea. But am I willing to take that risk again knowing what I know and seeing what I've seen?

For the right person (and by that I mean orlando bloom)... absolutely.