Sweetheart

I’ve been with my husband for such a long time that I sometimes forget that my thoughts aren’t automatically transmitted to him.  “What, you never told me that,” is a common phrase in our household and the level of exasperation varies depending on the severity of what I failed to communicate.  He is many things but a telepath is not one of them.  This is just one example of what happens to many longterm couples, when you become inextricably linked beyond the marriage certificate.  It’s also where the potential for push-back happens when one or both of you might want a different version of yourselves to try on for size.  Often the healthiest way to counter that is to have lives outside of your union, different interests and hobbies that allow you to bring something back to the table.  When you don’t exist solely for each other.

I can’t believe I’m actually about to write about figure skaters but whatever, it’s something that came to mind recently and I want to see the thoughts through.  The Sochi winter olympics has decreased my productivity precisely because a certain Canadian dance team piqued my interest.  If you don’t know whom I’m speaking of, they had a reality show, they are beautiful, talented and are mostly known for how they interact with each other.  It’s safe to say that in their sport they will be remembered far beyond their amateur or professional careers because of how they changed the game.  That and the fact that everyone and their mother wants them to be together.  I’m pretty sure that all of Canada would break into song and dance if that ever happened.  I get it.  They are two physically attractive individuals who clearly adore each other, however they deem to label their relationship.  We all want the rom-com ending of after knowing each other for seventeen years and being business partners, they end up falling in love.  I mean, Andrew and I have been romantically involved for fifteen and we get the same reaction when we tell people our story.  Their eyes light up as if our life is one long Nora Ephron script.  Shortly after marriage our friend M stated that we were proof that love lasts.  The fact that we’re high school sweethearts give us street cred.

But here’s the real deal.  That type of history makes it tricky and taking it to the next level either works or it doesn’t.  Even if you decide to try, it can be hard to maintain a spark amongst such familiarity.  For the said pair that I speak of, they met each other when they were babies, fine not infants but 7 and 9 are close enough.  After having to become adults at a young age by committing to being high performing athletes, they probably understand each other in a way that no one else can.  However, finishing each other’s sentences does not mean that you would work as a couple.  History cannot always hold its own against distinct socio-economic backgrounds and temperaments.  Sometimes stories like these are best left in the platonic zone, where you can be best buds forever.  That’s so much more sustainable.  So all those romantics, myself included, need to sit the hell down.  Because why muck up such a beautiful connection with messy feelings?  They and their story are far too pretty for that.

Also, no one knows what’s precisely going on with them so me and my gossip radar are calling it a day.

MILA KUNIS and Ashton Kutcher in New York

Smut

Being a full one month older than my husband, I feel that it qualifies me to give him sage advice on a regular basis.  For example “it’s the cold ones that you have to worry about because they won’t think twice before rolling you over with their car.”  Or, “no one likes getting divorced unless they have a lover to go to within the hour.”  Clearly I’m being facetious but these thoughts come from years of observation.  People fascinate me, how they primp, perform, revel and rebound from setbacks.

This interest is taken to another level through my inability to mind my own business.  It’s a problem.  I’ve tried going cold-turkey, offering myself rewards but nothing has satiated that hunger and I return once more.  I figure we all have our vices and although it’s gross there are worse things.  Maybe it’s cultural.  From my experience with the Burmese community, diasporic or not, people are constantly talking about each other.  It’s rarely malicious and they are just having a bit of fun.  So I follow that same principle with my love of gossip—I keep it light.  I could care less who is getting divorced or even who’s having babies I just like the beginnings.  I cannot help it with the love stories.

But here is where it gets interesting.  There is always the song and dance of the denial.  We have a very “special” relationship, he’s my best friend, that’s ridiculous.  Then they just start appearing in public together and after an appropriate time it’s just common knowledge that they are a partnership.  In Hollywood every couple is a brand, especially the very famous ones, so you never want to seem like you’re seeking the attention, that you’re not cool.  I would say this is the same for many public figures.  This is where I feel slightly guilty for my fascination.  In our age of social media it’s very difficult for celebrities to maintain their privacy and everyone is entitled to a private life.  With a tweet, instagram or Facebook, it’s suddenly within the public realm for consumption.  People judge you and your partner, the state of your relationship, your body, everything from that 20 second soundbyte or blurry picture.  No wonder they want to keep some things to themselves and I feel badly for prying.

It doesn’t help that I’m good at research and am an observant person.  I was born with a natural curiosity that is a source of pride and trouble all at the same time.  When someone’s behaviour does not match their public representation in the media I look for more information, I build my case and I’m usually right.  My favourite gossip queen and media personality Elaine Lui or Lainey calls this the “smutty tingles.”  Trust, I was right about Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart (I choose to believe that they were not a showmance in the “buffet that is gossip” as Lainey would say) and I’m pretty sure I’m right about my current one.  If I’m not, well I’ll eat my words and my hat.  The allure of it all is widespread, I mean there are whole fandoms out there.  After always observing the public show I sometimes wish that I was a representative for a public figure.  I would love to manage their image and cultivate interest.  Maybe next lifetime.

UPDATE: I was probably wrong.  I don’t know, they are confusing but I’m beyond caring.

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