Saturday, June 14, 2008

associations. a song. a restaurant. a piece of art. a smell. a place. even a simple word. they can all remind us of a person. associations can come with any person--boyfriends, girlfriends, family, friends, or even a time-period in general. but since this is the dating blog, i'll focus on things we associate with people we've dated.

associations are tricky. they can be one of the best things about relationships and one of the worst depending on the situation.

you are dating someone. you really care about them a lot. you do fun things together. you like each other. you go places together. maybe you need each other. you laugh a lot together. you are great friends. you have mind-blowing makeouts. you invest significant time in each other. obviously you'll have things you associate with each other, or with the times you spent together.

so things end. and it's pretty sad. but it's amicable. the wound is still tender, but you remember them and the experience with fondness.

you hear a song that reminds you of them. you get a knot in your stomach, and goosebumps on your arms. *sigh* (good sigh). you think of that person. and you smile.

you eat at a restaurant that was your favorite for the first time with someone other than them. you get a knot in your stomach, and goosebumps on your arms. *sigh*. you think of that person, and you smile.

you smell their cologne or perfume on a random passerby and are immediately transported back to a moment of cuddling in bed watching a movie, or an especially memorable makeout. or maybe just hugging them in general. you get a knot in your stomach, and goosebumps on your arms. *sigh*. you think of that person. you smile (and let's be honest, you tear up).

but then let's say a few months later you find out something about them that completely changes the way you view them or your entire relationship in general. suddenly those exact same associations are like poison (or a sledgehammer in your face.)

you hear a song that reminds you of the other. you feel like you've been punched in the stomach. you get shivers down your spine. *sigh* (the "i'm about to break down sigh). you think of that person. and skip to the next song.

you eat at a restaurant that was your favorite for the first time with someone other than them. you feel like you've been...oh COME ON! we all know you're not going to that restaurant for a while.

you smell their cologne or perfume on a random passerby and are immediately transported back to a moment of cuddling in bed watching a movie, or an especially memorable makeout. or maybe just hugging them in general. you feel like you've been punched in the stomach. you get shivers down your spine. *sigh*. you think of that person. you throw up in your mouth (or maybe you burst into tears in the middle of the isle at walmart).

the good news is that we have the ability to brain wash ourselves! after the mourning period, when you are finally ready to let them go and move on to something or someone else, you can condition yourself to associate things differently. sure, it might be a little rough starting out, but if you listen to those songs enough, you'll start to associate them with the present, not the past. if you go to that restaurant enough, you'll have new memories there.

hell no! you are not taking away my favorite songs!

hell no! you aren't keeping me from one of my favorite restaurants!

i'm not wonder woman people. i can't help you with the perfume/cologne thing.

11 comments:

natali said...

i have been known to cry at walmart.

Anonymous said...

I'm not strong enough to reclaim favorite songs. In fact, the time this situation happened to me I just effing abandoned the entire effing bands. And the sexual positions this particular boy or girl preferred. It was just too painful. Figuratively.

becky said...

take back your bands! and position of choice! your current boyfriend will be grateful

tanyamae said...

i never really liked that restaurant or their chicken anyway...

Anonymous said...

That's just the thing. I was only pretending to like those bands / positions to get into this boy or girl's pants / general apparel / whatever else fit. So I was glad to be rid of them. And you know what? It worked.

But he or she liked weird shit positions. Sometimes it freaked me out.

The Pinch Hitter.
The Nut Cracker.
The Rig-a-mah-rollllll.
The Short Stop.
The Projectile.
The G-Ass-trick Bi-pass Surge-ery.
The Bitching Wedge.
The No-holes-barred.
The Strangle Me.

So I was actually relieved to get out of that real-Asian-ship.

By strong enough I just meant that I was always exxxhausted and could barely move. To clarify, I was on the giving end of the NHB most of the time. If anyone asks.

becky said...

dirtbag

brian said...

breaking up sounds a lot like quitting smoking.

david, are you a virgin?

Anonymous said...

Your mother, good sir, can confirm that I am not.

brian said...

i called my mom (my profile photo shows me calling her) and your story checks out.

did you know that both times we've exchanged comments on blogs you've used jokes about my mom? keep it up; maybe one day it'll actually be funny.

Anonymous said...

sounds like you want to get back together with him.

k8 said...

i ran into a friend on my home from a breakup (tip, don't take public transport to a date if there is any potential it might be your last) and i told him i was going home to be alone and listen to sad music. He said, "well go put on celine dion or something, don't ruin something you actually like."