the more loving one

auden has been running through my mind lately. The poem posted below, to be exact.

I may be terrible for saying this, but I think I disagree with him. I don't think I would rather be the more loving one--at least, not in romance. I say this only because I know me. I know the way I treat people and the lengths I will go to for them. I know how serious commitment is to me, how much I try to see things from other people's perspectives, and that looking out for those I love and taking care of their needs comes naturally for me. And I'm learning that this isn't normally how people treat people. So, I think, in romance I'd rather have him be the more loving one. Because, in addition to overly-loving, I am under-believing when it comes to love. I may believe that you love me, but I'm also waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Although, now that I reread the poem, I have been in that situation before and it SUCKS. I really don't like being confronted with someone who honestly passionately loves you, and you just can't quite get there for them. So, maybe I don't disagree.

Are relationships ever, really, equitable? I thought for a while I was in one that was. He of course made the same self-depreciating comments that all guys make (women, a word of advice that I've learned over the years: if a man warns you, heed the warning.) but I thought we were, in some way, on the same page. We weren't. We were in different books, in different libraries, in different countries on different continents, written in different languages. But, for a time, I thought we were in balance, we'd achieved reciprocity. We were working on autonomy and interdependence, that I knew. But I think I will forever be working on that one--too independent for my own good.

I don't necessarily think it's a judgment call: that equity is "good" but if one person is more enamored over the other it's "bad." I think relationships are a jumble of whatever works for those two people at that time. I'm just curious, is it always a little out of balance? Do two people ever truly love each other, or is there always a more loving one?


The More Loving One

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

-- W. H. Auden