When people ask me what my favourite novel is, I tell them, “A Hero of Our Time”, and that’s been true for more than eight years now. It’s a prime example of Russian Romantic Literature, and I can appreciate that. It’s brilliant, not only in it’s lyrical style but also for the complexity of the mindset captured by the protagonist, which makes it such a pleasure to read through. It’s intelligent, it’s interesting, it’s creative, yet none of these things make it my favourite. It’s not even the book I’ve enjoyed reading the most.

It’s simply been the most influential.

Lermontov’s novel once offered me guidance (albeit blindly) when I needed it the most. His words have shaped me more than anything else I can think of, even though I’ve cast off most of my former self related to this. I still see his work as being an integral part of my development, in making me who I am at every changing moment, and that is why I hold so much importance in it.

All of it was a matter of timing. Otherwise, I’d probably think that it was just another boring book I was forced to read in grade 10 English.

The same goes with my relationships, something I would never have thought was related to timing. It’s funny to think that my most significant relationship was also my shortest by far, with a person who is most likely to think nothing of it at all. And everything that made it important to me was a combination of a very specific mindset I had at the time and the fact that this person was such a change from my previous girlfriend.

The same goes with my favourite movie and my favourite band. I’ve become a person who holds more significance in the things that change me than the things that please me.

And change is a product of time.

There are times when a commitment is made on good terms and the bond of such a commitment can be easily honoured. However, there are cases when these terms become subject to strains that may threaten the relationship on which the commitment is based. When these strains overwhelm, the bond is broken.

The commitment, entangled with the relationship, should be broken as well.

However, this bond sometimes does not end. In such cases, the commitment cannot be said to be honoured; rather, it exists out of pity. Such a motive is rarely something to be desired. It is best to end such an engagement instead of falsely keeping it alive, for commitments, much like relationships, are partially based on the self-interests of those involved. When they are not, one person assumes the role of a liar.

And the other is being lied to.

I told Aaron a few months ago that I held his morals and attitudes towards relationships as a personal goal. Knowing him for a while and being through a few odd relationships issues with him has made me realize that he has a very healthy mindset. I’m not saying that there are bad or wrong ways of viewing relationships, I simply found that his ideas fit with my overall life goals very well. Even though I haven’t always stuck to these lofty standards in my own relationship experience, I still try to maintain this set of ideals.

I know a few people whose main goal in life is to get married. I questioned them about why they have this goal, and they would tell me that they simply don’t know. I’ve been through all types of relationship mindsets before, all fairly different, all from different manifestations of my personality. There were phases such as “I want to be in a relationship”, “I don’t think I’ll ever be in a relationship”, “I’m unsatisfied with this relationship”, “I’ve given up on relationships”, “I’ll be in this relationship for the rest of my life” (hahaha), “I don’t want to be in a relationship”, and it goes on and on.

Right now I’m not even sure what I want. I think a relationship would be great but unnecessary. I’ve stopped being dependent on someone to complete me, stopped looking at life as a deadline, and have reconsidered almost everything about what I want.

Being able to do so has made me think much more clearly and act with more conviction.

I finally printed off my picture of the glasses on the sill and framed it, which is quite something considering the fact that I have barely any decorations in my room. I was lucky enough to have been given a nice metal frame as a Christmas gift a few years ago, but have not had a decent picture to put in it. Since I don’t have a career going yet, I try to keep a minimalistic amount of furniture until I can afford to invest in long term sets, and for now the picture rests on my coffee table. I wanted a physical manifestation of the image because of the poignancy it evokes in me.

Every time I look at it I can’t help but think of the morning sun seeping through the cracks of blue venetian blinds, of the flourish of green leaves outside the window. I think of lying on a swollen bed with my back to the wall, noticing the brightness of the sun fill the room, talking well past the break of day. I think of sleeping next to someone, holding her head, drawing on her face, seeing the early light bring out the sunflowers in her eyes. I remember how we’d go to sleep, placing our frames on the windowsill before succumbing to exhaustion.

Perhaps I’m so affected by this image, this bittersweet memory, because of how much I relish the act of sleeping next to someone. One of my favourite parts of a relationship is being able to hold someone before losing consciousness. I suppose it betrays a vulnerability, a certain unparalleled intimacy, and vulnerability is something that I’ve always been attracted to.

But how odd it is that this may mean so much to me, yet mean so little to another. That even someone sharing this experience with me may think of it in passing, as some ephemeral experience, not worth remembering.

What do we take with ourselves when we fall apart? Do we keep the memories or the emotions? Do we only take the good and leave the bad?

With this picture I try to take everything. I don’t want to hide from hurt, I don’t want to neglect any feelings. I choose to see the image as a beautiful thing, a frame in time when I felt something greater than most things I’ve felt in my life. I try to turn the pain into productivity and gain from my experience. I look at this picture and become affected by everything it means to me.

Even if it means nothing to anyone else.

People in relationships can be divided into two categories; those who love the self and those who love the other. Every relationship is different, not just in the sense of a different pair of people, but also in the idea of the same person with a different girlfriend or boyfriend. Although someone may be of a certain category through one relationship, they may fall into the other category in another. Even crossing categories through the same relationship is possible, depending on the dynamic of a couple.

The lovers of the self care about the other person, but only insofaras their own vested interests are concerned. When the desire of this type of lover begins to outgrow what the relationship can offer, the bond weakens and often breaks. The main concern of this type is what they are getting out of the relationship.

The lovers of the other are lovers in the classical sense of the word. These are the people with an honest love, the ones who care most about whether or not the other person is happy. This type of lover is the one least willing to break a relationship, the one who is more willing to sacrifice or compromise.

Relationships are based on matchings of these two types. A relationship between two lovers of the self will last as long as there is no conflict involved. Once a disagreement is reached, neither party cares enough to make the relationship work. On the other hand, a relationship between two lovers of the other is the ideal match, and generally the longest lasting. Both people are committed and willing to work out any problems that may arise. Usually, the only break in the relationship may be from base conflicts (disagreement on issues which are too basic to work out or compromise about, such as adoption).

The most common type of match, however, is with one lover of the self and one lover of the other. At the end of such a relationship one is left unaffected while the other is broken-hearted, and the end of such a thing, in my experience, is inevitable. In cases like this, I’ve found myself on both sides of the coin.

And regretting nothing of either.