Christopher Titus: Normal people can live with happiness. Screwed up people try to destroy it. See, all I am looking for is the perfect match. […] Fourteen months later, I realized its not an act, that’s who she is, she is great, she is the perfect girl. I don’t deserve this kind of happiness. How can I destroy it?
I have often felt emotionally myopic. I have always failed to understand emotional distance. Still don’t. Some called it being dysfunctional. Some call it being sensitive. Some call it insecurity. Some call it maturity. Some call it depression. Some call it borderline personality disorder. Some call it pain. Some call it goodness. Some call it being lost. Some call it self-victimization. Some call it a rare asset. Some call it being obsessive. Some call it misfortune. Some call it a virtue. Some call it over-thinking. And I find myself saying, “That is the only way I function. I cannot be any other way.”
Emotionally investing in relationships to the best of my capacity then becomes a habit, a value, a way of life for me. Each relationship then becomes an emotionally intense experience. Hence, exhausting. Hence, unsustainable. Hence, a cycle of involvement and uninvolvement. Hence, a cycle of feeling close and distancing. Relationships then start becoming pseudo happiness, pseudo non-loneliness. It only gets as good as it gets and as bad as it gets. It is good, only as long as it starts getting worse.
Marina Abramovic: There is so much pain in their eyes. I am just a trigger, I am just a mirror and actually they become aware of their own life, of their own vulnerability, of their own pain, of everything- and that brings the crying. They are really crying about their own self, and that is an extremely emotional moment. […] An art is made of trust, vulnerability and connection.
The ability to understand and empathize with complex emotions then becomes a cross you bear for life. Pain is attractive. Lethally attractive. Pain is real. Pain is romantic. It is not love; but pain which is the highest possible honorable emotion one can share with another human being. Romantic love then asks only one question, “Can you handle, contain, absorb and forgive my pain?”
Nick Dunne: You fucking cunt!
Amy Dunne: I’m the cunt you married. The only time you liked yourself was when you were trying to be someone this cunt might like. I’m not a quitter, I’m that cunt. I killed for you; who else can say that? You think you’d be happy with a nice Midwestern girl? No way, baby! I’m it. […] Nick Dunne took my pride and my dignity and my hope and my money. He took and took from me until I no longer existed. That’s murder.
Nick Dunne: Fuck. You’re delusional. I mean, you’re insane, why would you even want this? Yes, I loved you and then all we did was resent each other, try to control each other. We caused each other pain.
Amy Dunne: That’s marriage.
Marriage is personal. Marriage is political. Marriage is legal. Marriage is social. Marriage is economical. Marriage is power dynamics. Marriage is self-destruction. Marriage is an act. Marriage is a performance. Marriage is therapeutic. Marriage is mutual exploitation. Marriage is dishonesty. Marriage is diplomacy. Marriage is a negotiation. Marriage is an illusion. Marriage is a delusion. Often convincing in the beginning. Marriage is a paradox. Marriage is divorce, lurking in the dark. Marriage is distance. Ever increasing distance.
Nick Dunne: The primal questions of any marriage.
What are you thinking?
How are you feeling?
What have we done to each other?
Me: I hate you enough to divorce you and love you enough to not be married to you.
He: Fuck marriage!
Me: Fuck marriage!
And we broke into a knowing laughter.