Pairs

Pairs. It's interesting how coupling appears all throughout nature, and in mathematics. The twin prime conjecture. Yes, well, it explores pairs of numbers-- numbers that are only divisible by themselves. 3,5... 5,7... not 7,9 because 9 is divisible by 3. Then you have 11,13... 17,19, and so on, and what was discovered, what often occured were pairs that were separated by one number in-between. --Jeff Bridges "The Mirror Has Two Faces"

Couples. They are everywhere. Mathematics. Musical duets. Bookends. Salt-and-pepper shakers. Peas and carrots. Scales of justice. Right and left. Good and evil. Bra and panties. (Okay, that one doesn't always exist, but it should-- for some people more than others).  And so forth. Over the course of the last several years of my life, I have taken a much more conscious look at the pairings around me. People I know. Total strangers. In all seasons of their lives. All situations. Young. Old. Opposite-sex. Same-sex. It really doesn't matter. I watch. I listen. I notice. I absorb. I learn. I become inspired. The funny little dance and dynamic that is couplehood, attempting to understand how and why it all works. Even with as complicated as I know it all to be, from the outside looking in, it all seems so... easy.

It got me thinking:  Amongst adults, are there actually more couples than non-couples? In my day-to-day observations, I would venture to say, "Yes," although I do not know that to be a statistical fact. I refuse to Google it. (It would probably be completely inaccurate anyway). In this crazy, fast-paced, ever-changing world in which we live, is it really that easy to "find someone"? By all appearances, it would seem so.

Seem being the key word. When it comes to this "over-abundance" of couples, how many of those people are truly happy with each other, or are they holding onto that person out of fear? Fear of being alone. I am a firm believer that human beings are biologically-wired for pairings. Sure, we all experience periods when we want to fly solo for one reason or another, but at the heart of who we are as human beings, being alone is sometimes the worst fate with which we can be faced. We seek to be matched.

The cynical among us could pawn this off as desperation or loneliness, but even in my most cynical moments (and there are many), I would disagree. We crave balance-- someone to tame our extremes, or bring out the very best in us. There is nothing pathetic about human nature. It is a beautiful and fascinating thing. We grow up believing that there is this person out there "waiting" for us-- the one. I would love to know who started that little rumor. According to one of my favorite films, it was Plato who said:

...We began as circles. When we strived to be like the gods, we were punished by a thunderbolt that struck us and cut us right down dead center in half. We scattered to the ends of the Earth, searching and searching for our other half. Now, what Plato was saying is that, if we just stop, and go with the flow, and follow our destiny, it'll lead us back to each other. --Marisa Tomei "Only You"

Don't get me wrong-- I am a big enough sap to at least entertain the idea of a soul mate. I love the idea of it; it's romantic and powerful, but is it reality? I suppose you could ask those people who claim to have found The One and they would say, "Yes." In all fairness, the single and bitter among us would probably say, "Hell, no." Now, regardless of my affinity for this movie, I am reluctantly on the fence when it comes to this philosophy of a pre-destined coupling. This is when the cynicism born from my life experience, and my stupid hopeless romantic side ruthlessly punch each other in the face. Honestly, as a single person, I think it is far too intimidating to attach myself to the concept that I am supposed to successfully locate this "one" person amongst the roughly 7-billion on this lovely little blue planet we call Earth. That would be like a real-life "Where's Waldo", on crack. And yet, I cannot deny the fact that we are designed to be paired, so perhaps there is some truth to the idea, however whimsical (and impossible) it may seem to be.

So, for the sake of argument, let's just say that we really are destined for someone. Then, I will ask the inevitable question of, "Why?" Well, perhaps the question really should be, "Why do we want to believe in something like that?" Personally, I think it comforts us to latch onto this philosophical promise that we won't end up alone-- that eventually, it will happen for us, just like it has so "easily" fallen into place for everyone else. And make no mistake-- we are promised-- by our families, our friends, our chosen theologies, films, songs, literature, and the list goes on. Is it fair? Sure, it is. We are wired for this. We would want it, even if we weren't promised. Why?

Because we need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on the planet. I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything-- the good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things. All of it. All the time. Every day. You're saying, "Your life will not go unnoticed, because I will notice it. Your life will not go unwitnessed, because I will be your witness." --Susan Sarandon "Shall We Dance?"

Well, sorry Ms. Sarandon, but as I previously-stated, it's closer to 7-billion people, sweetheart. Get your facts straight. Lord, what are they paying the people who write these screenplays, anyway? Do I think that we seek to be paired out of a desire to simply have our lives validated in some way? No. However, there is something reassuring in knowing that there is at least one other person in the world who recognizes you-- and not just another person who can identify you in a police line-up or on a coroner's table, but someone who really knows you, almost as intimately as you know yourself-- that you aren't just drifting along in life, invisible. It is a connection-- our one real, solid connection to the world. An anchor. A sturdy chain amongst the thin, fraying, and often temporary threads that tie us to most of the people around us. Or, at least that is how it should be.

So, how do we make this happen? What's the secret? Well, I can tell you one thing-- it isn't by rhythmically bobbing your head to David Bowie while munching on a cookie in a coffee shop, crumbs all over my notes, like I am doing at this current moment, (although the "one" who awaits me would have to find such behavior completely endearing, because it is a habit that occurs on an all-too-regular basis). Seriously, though, how is it that this over-abundance of couples exists? How did they go from being a "me" to being an "us"? In "You've Got Mail", Tom Hanks' father is gearing up for his third divorce, and discussing his post-marriage game plan with his son. It becomes very clear that father and son have very opposing views on relationships.

I just have to meet someone new, that's all. That's the easy part.

Oh, right, yeah... a snap to find the one single person in the world who fills your heart with joy.

Even with as much as I like to see the world through rose-colored glasses, and would like to believe that every couple out there is giddy, head-over-heels, stupid in-love, I know that there are countless couples that I watch who came upon each other "easily" because they do not truly believe in, or want to invest the time to find, their "perfect" match. They are the ones who are with each other out of that aforementioned fear of being alone. They are the ones who would rather be with anyone than live a solitary life, even for a second. They are the ones who have a new "love" in their lives within 24-hours of their last break-up. They settle. ***Gasp*** I despise that word. These people make me sad. Sure, it is harder-- even brutally-painful at times-- to invest some effort and patience (and sometimes sacrifice some pride) in order to "find the one single person in the world who fills your heart with joy," but my goodness, we only get one shot at this life. Why waste it on something less than joy, and lots of it?

So, I will continue to quietly notice the pairs around me, trying to gain some insight into the inner-workings of it all. I will remain inspired by the couples who clearly refused to settle, and frustrated by the ones who did. I will keep drawing different perspectives from various romantic comedies and how they parallel my own observations and experiences. I will continue to sing "I Know Him By Heart" to my daughter at bedtime, doing my bioligical duty of pushing that promise forward, with the hopes that she will keep it in mind, and remember not to settle for anything less than true love. I will continue to root for the stupid, hopeless romantic side of my brain to conquer its occasionally-tempting fatalistic opponent. I will be Plato, and continue to see the world in pairs-- both matched and unmatched-- so that when that other prime number-- that other half-- that witness-- that one single person shows up on the radar, I haven't become so jaded that I pass him by.