I like to say that I'm only have three really notable skills. I was either born with these skills or developed them over time, I really couldn't tell you either way. The first is the ability to effortlessly use words to form concise and artful sentences. The second is the ability to establish intimate and long lasting friendships. The third is the ability to make passionate love. Ok, I'm only half joking about that last one: you'll have to confirm with my ex-girlfriends about that.
As I wind down my trip to Asia, I was ruminating recently about how many new friends I made here, how many old connections that were reinvigorated, and how many people I will miss when I leave. This is something I've always been exceptionally good at: making friends, no matter where I go, and no matter with who, regardless of age, circumstance, or creed. Give me a beer, two chairs, and a smile and I'll make a connection under most circumstances.
My trip ends in a week and most of my days are filled up with dinners I need to have, drinks I need to do, and we're not even covering time I'm spending with my two-week Thai girlfriend (more on that later). I always joked that if I was as good with my romantic pursuits as I was with my fraternal ones, I could give up my day job and become a gigolo.
But then I wondered, is the process by which we make friends all that different from the process by which we pursue lovers? While obviously they are not one and the same, aren't we just talking about establishing an emotional and social connection with someone? I like to say that I don't make good sentences; rather, good sentences come to me. I also never try to make friends, I just put myself out there and things tend to take care of themselves.
But when it comes to dating and romantic pursuits, I always considered this a deeply daunting task. Going on dates, hitting on girls, going out on more dates, online dating, and onward and so forth. Just thinking about it exhausted me, and I often joked that I could see the appeal of becoming a monk. When Hannah and I broke up, one of my first reactions was, "Dear God, I need to get out there again. I just don't know whether I have the wherewithal for getting back into the 'game' again."
As I thought more deeply about why I considered finding and making a romantic connection to be such a daunting task, I realized that it was due to a fundamental way I viewed the world of love. That is that I viewed love as a commodity. Not only a commodity, but a scarce one at that. Love was something to be sought, and when "found", to be treasured. If I think deeply, this might have to do with growing up in a family that saw the marriage between my mother and father slowly break down and dissolve over time. The love they had for one another petered out and at the end, all that was left was sadness and recrimination. Whether consciously or sub-consciously, I vowed to make all my relationships from then on "perfect."
Because of this, I put up requirements for all my potential lovers: they had to have these things in common with me, be of a certain type, be nerdy, be smart, be sweet. But I think, most importantly, I put pressure on myself to "get it right". Each interaction was a high stakes game of poker. I either folded right away when I felt the hand I was dealt wasn't a winner, or I went all in and put my heart on the line.
When it comes to making friendships, though, I don't see things that way at all. If I like you, I will tell you and I will want to get to know you. I was at a train station off in the provinces of Thailand last week and I helped as translator for a man from New Zealand. Afterwards I offered him my email address and told me to get in touch if he was ever in Bangkok and I'd buy him a drink. He never did, but I didn't care: I was offering because I genuinely wanted to get to know him better. I thought about this, and that's when I realized...
My friendship is a gift, and it's a gift I give freely and often. I give it freely because I have so much of it. I have an infinite supply of my ability and want to be your friend. Why can't my love be the same thing? If it's a gift that you have an infinite supply of, then you can't ever be mad if your gift is turned down. If you give it freely, honestly, and genuinely, without a need for anything in return, then you can never be disappointed.
Dating and the pursuit of love can be seen like a game, but what I didn't realize before is that the stack that I hold behind my hand is as large as I want it to be. People cordon themselves off because they think the love they have to give is finite. It isn't. My love is as big as I want it to be. Anybody can be offered it, it's just up to me to package it and start giving it away.
And this leads me to my next two stories: the story of the one night romance in Singapore and the only pick-up line you'll ever need, and the story of my two-week Thai girlfriend. Stay tuned, dear readers, there is certainly more to come!
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