Use Your Words - Not Mine

It's 11:30 on a Tuesday morning, and instead of writing papers and getting ready to go to my internship at the English Major's Office, I'm feeling defeated. Deflated. Depressed. Yes, I'm depressed. That unholiest of adjectives within an Asian family. My pseudo-boyfriend-cum-actual-boyfriend, Robert, just left my bedroom, and it's depressing. No - we're depressing.

We entered this relationship as two individuals and now we've succumbed to co-dependency. He's a twenty-six year old who never learned what it's like to be a full-fledged adult; I'm a twenty-three year old who's always known the responsibilities of full-fledged adulthood. Between the two of us, we are children playing dress-up. We "see" better in the dark, with our senses heightened and our awareness keen - and it's a good thing, because our parents have kept us in the dark about a lot of things.

I, for example, am well aware that mail should be checked daily, bills paid on time, and work handled fastidiously. But I don't know why I'm not supposed to like my job. I don't know why I've entered a relationship with a man who does not know how to fulfill my relationship demands. Most of all, I don't know why I fall in love with people who will never learn to take care of me, and who will always need to be taken care of.

Robert, on the other hand, knows how to hold his temper, how to compromise, and how to soothe my agitations. But he doesn't know how to hold down a job. He doesn't have any direction or any motivation to do anything with his life. He doesn't know how not to waste away. Most of all, he doesn't know how to be a fully-functioning, independent adult who is worthy of respect.

So why are we even together? Why are my parents still married after twenty-five years of adultery, betrayal, and bastard children? Why does Robert claim that his parents still love each other, even after they've spent most of his lifetime divorced and battling in court rooms for money? Why is anyone together, for that matter? Or, no: Drop that "why." Is anyone together? Like, really together? The kind of "together" that we grew up fantasizing about?

Or is that kind of coupledom - just like the job that is challenging, well-paid, and fulfilling - nothing more than a fantasy?

What is a couple? What is a job? And what is a blog? The connotations, implications, and definitions of these terms (and maybe every word) fluctuate and are altered by society and time. But right now, sole possession of these words and every other word are my property. The world is mine. In this manic state of writing, I am my megalomaniac self.