Ego is a funny thing. You hold yourself higher (in importance) than others, which should absolutely be the case, and clash with another ego, kind of like a building crashing into another in an earthquake. You see it while it's happening. And, there's nothing more disillusioning than realizing that someone else isn't willing to bow down to your ego. What's more, you kind of wonder why this person isn't diminishing his/her ego for the sake of salvaging the relationship, which is--case in point--evidence of your own ego-centrism. Fuck people, I want to be an island.

Samantha from Sex and the City ends her relationship with her first serious relationship (in my opinion) in the first movie of the series. Her rationale for doing so is that she "loves him, but loves [herself] more." I found that to be a mindboggling notion at first. Immersed in the romanticized, ideal, storybook relationship template, I could not understand her cool take on a small argument, nor her decision to detach herself from devotion, her uncomfortableness with vulnerability, her desire for some sort of control over emotion. But as I replayed the scene over and over again I realized I identified with the woman. At the tender age of 20, inspired by a short dialogue between two fictional characters in an American television series, I decided to change my political views on relationships from the hopeless romantic to that of the hopeful, but real-er, skeptic.

I'd like to end this post with some kind of resolution. But seeing that I've decided to talk about it mid-conflict, I really can't give anyone anything. What I can say, however, is that I'm deeply entertained, if not humored, by this sequence of events. I also find it kind of apt. Ironic, too. Offensive, sometimes, but I'm pretty sure it goes vice versa as well. Symmetry and asymmetry seem to coexist in this dialogue.

Guichanaso.