Human Banking?

Why is it so difficult to let great people go when you KNOW you do not love them the way they deserve to be loved, the way they love you?

Is it perhaps because in our minds, we have created human banks where we can keep relationship prospects until we have need of them? Prospects who have all we should ideally seek in a partner, but do not inspire in us, the grand passion every great love story, from sleeping beauty to Romeo and Juliet, swears is the sign of true love?

So we say 'sorry, let's stay friends' to these gems we do not want and administer a tricky combination of just enough sweetness to keep hope alive, and just enough distance to remind them we're not theirs. And just when that begins to sink in, add that spicy tang that says 'well, I'm not yours, but I could be... sometime  never in the future' *insert horned devil emoticon*

We service this relationship like we would a savings account or investment. We make timely deposits of phone calls, text messages, tweets, wall posts, etc. We make the expected rare withdrawals here and there. And basically, expect the people to lie there like our cash does, waiting for the day we decide we do want them after all, or that we'd settle for them.

And when we hear of a wedding, we reluctantly sell our shares in that investment, unless we're into the married man/woman booty-call scene...

Has any of this sounded familiar at all?

I was blasting a certain guy for toying with my friend's emotions, by putting her in a bank and not letting her move on, when I let the words sink in and realized, we all probably do this on some level - keep people we are not particularly fond of close just in case we ever need them.

What do you think of 'human banking'? When does it cross that line between prudent investment and toying with another's emotions? Any stories?

It's good to look back and see how far you've come once in a while...

In my first year of University, I was painfully shy and would cross the road to avoid passing a group of guys if I saw them coming early enough to avoid it looking really awkward and suspicious. Spotting them early enough was kind of hard to do though because I insisted on walking with all my attention on the pavement as if it was the most interesting thing I’d ever seen.

I was scared of even my own shadow back then. I didn’t dare look in their direction if I had to swallow the bitter pill of passing them. What was I scared of? 

1) that someone may like what he saw and endeavour to make me a target for his ‘lustful desires’. I had heard stories of how third and final years pounced on unassuming, naive girls like myself. I was aware how vulnerable I was because of how little I knew and had been exposed to. And it scared me… and made me afraid.

2) I was scared that someone wouldn’t like what he saw and make a remark or comment that would mar my self-esteem which was perpetually on life-support back then.

Today, my self-esteem is off life-support, not because I think of myself any highly than I used to back then, sadly. It’s because I have recognized that even if I bumped into twenty people in one day who all hated how I looked, spoke, or everything I am, they are only twenty out of over six billion people.

I walk comfortably past a group of guys now. I even check them out to see if there’s any eye candy to feast my eyes upon for a few seconds. I am not the girl I used to be… and I am glad.

So, what personal change are you grateful for?