Robert Manners

When I Think About Love

These two songs pretty much sum up my feelings about Love right now:

The One I Belong To

One man has hands that are tender,

One man's incredibly strong.

To which one should I surrender?

My choice is bound to be wrong.

I might find my ideal lover,

If I search both far and wide.

Once found, I know I'll discover

That I'm still not satisfied.



I don't know if I'll find the one I belong to,

Or if that's who I long to find.

Most people seek one love to last for a lifetime,

But that's not what I have in mind.

The sun and stars don't only shine on one man,

They shine on whomever's their pleasure...

Their light is their own.

And like them I don't need any one I belong

To myself, I'll be fine on my own.



Some say that love is for always,

I say that love's always new.

God-sent, or sought out in hallways,

Love's fun, but love's never true.

I don't intend to be faithful,

I lost all I had yesterday.

Now I intend to be playful:

Life's less disappointing that way.



I don't know if I'll find the one I belong to,

Or if that's who I long to find.

Most people seek one love to last for a lifetime,

But that's not what I have in mind.

The sun and stars don't only shine on one man,

They shine on whomever's their pleasure...

Their light is their own.

And like them I don't need any one

I belong to myself.

I'll be fine on my own.

"Ich Weiß Nicht, Zu Wem Ich Gehöre" by Friedrich Hollaender, 1931

From Ute Lemper: Berlin Cabaret Songs, Decca 1997

Gimme, Gimme

A simple choice, nothing more:

This or that, either or.

Marry well, social whirl, business man, clever girl;

Or pin my future on a green glass love?

What kind of life am I dreaming of?



I say gimme, gimme ... gimme, gimme...



Gimme, gimme that thing called love, I want it!

Gimme, gimme that thing called love, I need it!

Highs and lows, tears and laughter,

Gimme happy ever after!

Gimme, gimme that thing called love!



Gimme, gimme that thing called love, I crave it!

Gimme, gimme that thing called love, I'll brave it!

Thick 'n thin, rich or poor time,

Gimme years and I'll want more time!

Gimme, gimme that thing called love!



Gimme, gimme that thing called love, I'm free now!

Gimme, gimme that thing called love, I see now!

Fly, dove! Sing, sparrow!

Gimme Cupid's famous arrow!

Gimme, gimme that thing called love!



I don't care if he's a nobody,

In my heart he'll be a somebody,

Somebody to love me!



I need it!

Gimme that thing called love,

I want it!

Here I am, St. Valentine,

My bags are packed, I'm first in line!

Aphrodite, don't forget me,

Romeo and Juliet me!

Fly, dove! Sing, sparrow!

Gimme fat boy's famous arrow!

Gimme, gimme that thing called love!

"Gimme, Gimme," lyrics by Dick Scanlan

From Thoroughly Modern Millie, 2002

(Okay, the last song kind of depends on the building enthusiasm of the music for its afflatus, but you get the idea.)



So what do you do when your heart is entertaining two entirely separate and mutually exclusive concepts of Love? I mean, on the one hand I am quite dedicated to the belief that I am fine on my own, that I don't need a special man in a particular kind of relationship in order to be happy. And yet, at the same time, I see evidence everywhere around me that Man is a mating creature, no matter any penchants for promiscuity or solitude... lifelong monogamy isn't necessarily the aim, but mating quite definitely is.



(When I talk about Coupledom, I don't necessarily mean two people committed solely to each other in a little house with a white picket fence and a dog and two children... being sexually active in any way is a form of Coupling, with the role of The Other being portrayed by a rotating cast instead of a seasoned regular.)



The celibate in me, despite all the terribly good, rational, well-thought-out reasons for remaining celibate (and there really are a lot of really good reasons), is also largely motivated by fear: fear of vulnerability to pain, rejection, even loss and disease. Opening yourself physically and emotionally to another human being is an opportunity to be ravaged and destroyed. Past experience has consistently shown me this side of openness, without salving the wounds with any of the supposed rewards of intimacy. After a while, I of course stopped believing in those alleged rewards, even though I see other people enjoying them every day; and whether or not they existed, I certainly could not continue to consider them to be worth the very tangible pain and suffering I have experienced every time I opened myself.



On the other hand, despite my understanding of the human need to mate, I am completely and utterly disgusted by the brainwashing frequency of social pressures to mate. It seems sometimes that you can't turn around without having the World At Large telling you that you are incomplete and pointless if nobody loves you that way, or that you're at least getting laid regularly... and preferably both.



And I don't mean just the Media, which exists to convince you that you are "less-than" in order to get you to buy the stuff that will make you "better-than"... they're pretty evil and amazingly effective in propogating the You-Must-Couple-Up mentality, deluging us with images of blissfully happy couples who demonstrate their blissful devotion to each other by blissfully buying healthier foodstuffs, sweeter-smelling fabric softeners, shoddy jewelry, fancy automobiles, and perfect holiday gifts; or else they try to convince you that you can achieve that state of coupled-up bliss by buying expensive colognes, chemically unstable toiletries, unnaturally-colored beverages (alcoholic or carbonated or both), cleverly-packaged mints, and poorly-made clothes that can only be successfully worn by people ten times better-looking than you.



But the Media wouldn't be able to use Coupledom as a tool to sell things if Society didn't fervently believe in and reinforce the idea that Coupledom is the ne plus ultra of human existence. People in couples run around demonstrating their coupleness, husbands and wives, boyfriends and girlfriends, lovers and fuckbuddies, infesting the planet and making the uncoupled feel left-out. Society is built around the creation of family units, and the lone wolves, the celibates and spinsters, are gently and even subconsciously, but nevertheless firmly pushed to the edges of the pack — pitied or sneered at but definitely on the outside.



That sort of thing sparks my rebellious nature, and I seek celibacy as a defiance to the Coupledom that has been shoved down my throat by society and the media since I was an infant. I don't want to be part of anything so trite, so pervasive, so marketed.



And yet, here I am on the outside of Coupledom, not minding my own business and enjoying the unobstructed view out... I am looking inside through the glass. I'm not a hermit on a mountaintop enjoying the silence and pondering the Infinite, but a voyeur in an apartment-building parking-lot peeping at all the couples inside. And no matter how much I tell myself I despise those couples, how much I want to look in the other direction, I remain where I am, nose against the glass.



So here I am at war with myself, too afraid of pain to enter into the realms of Coupledom, too enamored of the people within to turn away forever. I feel like there must be some happy middle-ground, someplace where I can accept Coupledom on its own terms and can take it or leave it alone... but damned if I can find that ground. Maybe it doesn't exist, that you're either in our out, and peeping through the window is just a waste of time. Or maybe I'm on my way to one side or the other, and am just having a little pang of terror at leaving the familiar for the unknown.



Time will eventually reveal the answer or erase the question.