Can fate act at parties?

Wild parties are like online dating sites to me: They don't rate so high on my credibility meter when it comes to finding someone whom I could actually strike a connection with. I mean, how credible is interest when most of the people are under the influence?

I have my share of meeting random guys that want to see me again, and then I'm faced with the dilemma on whether or not to indulge my inner attention whore with the obvious risk of attachment. Is it even really worth a try?

Don't forget the strange behavior that can happen with people you know at parties. It's like that episode of Sex and the City when Samantha was high on X and had sex with Richard, yelling "I love you." It kinda bothered her, and yet Richard didn't take it seriously, since she was high. What happens when people who were under the influence do something intimate, only to question it in the future? Dra-ma.

But who knows, maybe there are some exceptional stories out there of people who have met at a party and have been together up to this day. That's just what those stories are: exceptional, not the rule.

Secrets

People usually have a hard time keeping them. It gives otherwise everyday information a special label, turning it into a Pandora's box.

What is it about secret crushes that make it so difficult to keep?
I've had my share of forcing crushes...I call them pseudo-crushes, great guys that I'd like, but not like that. It doesn't have that genuine feel to it, like when I'd blush bad enough for it to show through my skin (which is quite a lot). And sometimes I'm content with just keeping it to myself. So what if it doesn't become a reality? At this point in my life, I'd rather wait right now.

I've been putting off this topic for such a long time that it's no longer secret. One person knows (you know who you are, you better keep it well!) I wasn't even sure of what I was feeling, until I started dissecting all those times when he could've talked to anybody else, but he talked to me. Knowing more and more about him is full of surprises, and some of them seem to be cosmically arranged. I really don't want to force it. He's grown to be somewhat of a confidante over a year, but it just happens so easily, not at a blinding and dazing speed. Feeling this way actually feels right; so right that I'm wondering what will be wrong.

I'm afraid. For all I know, Pandora's box will turn into a can of worms.

Recognizing what I'm feeling

Why is it that the word 'grudge' is almost phonetically similar to the word 'crush?'
I've learned ever since I was 12 that the opposite of love is not hate, but indifference. So I can hate somebody close to me, but it's because I most probably care.

I don't like anger and all the connotations that it carries. To me, anger is yelling, hurting other people. That is what I saw it to be as I grew up. Then I went to confession one day, and Father told me that there is such thing as just anger. Christ felt anger, and he upturned tables in the temple. But not even scriptures and beliefs can convince me enough that anger is just an emotion, that it is not destructive action unless one makes it to be just that. Instead, I have personal experience dictate for me what it's like to be a object of someone's anger, to be yelled at over the phone and to have that diatribe immortalized in my voicemail. After years of knowing anger to be yelling and hurting, I figured that I shouldn't even feel anger in the first place.

But I snap too. There are some times it just gets too unbearable. Yet, if I'm mad at people whom I'm most probably going to see again, or people I don't want to hurt out of stupid and ridiculously subjective reasons, then I try to hide it. I don't want to feel that way, because what if I yell and do something I regret? What if I render any relationships irreparable? So I put it away. Now some may think I totally understand and acquiesce right on the spot when I don't react angrily. Heck, I believe that enough to even fool myself. In the end, that's exactly what I've done: I've denied myself the very fact that just like any other human being, I snap too.

Some grudges I can't help but wonder why I still feel them. It's got such a bad stigma attached to it, that grudges are controllable, so those who harbor them are just horrible or stupid or immature. Now's as good a time as any to admit that I am frustrated and mad. And I just might run away while my heart's still beating.

Excuses to see the other person again

When is a cigar just a cigar, a kiss just a kiss, or leaving or lending stuff just what it is?

In the movie X-men, Logan leaves his dog tags with Rogue and tells her that this is how you'll know for sure that we'll meet again.

There is definitely a language communicated through inanimate objects. People give and receive flowers, a plush animal, flowers, and even the color of the roses signify something. But what I'm curious about is how often people purposely leave stuff behind or lend stuff to another person. I've done that quite a lot of times myself: leave stuff with the "I'll definitely see you again sometime" intention. In fact, that's my weird way of showing that I like someone: they'll have a hefty amount of stuff that actually belongs to me. Of course, that intention gets lost in the shuffle of plain wanting to be hospitable at the same time. I can lend a book because I really want them to read it. So the language of leaving stuff behind is actually becoming increasingly more complex than I orginally thought. I mean, I could leave food behind, lend food on a regular basis and it doesn't mean much. Maybe it does.

But the big underlying question is whether the person is attracted or not. At that point, so what if they leave their scarf, or forget their hat; there's no more uncertainty of seeing the person again, so leaving and lending doesn't have a huge statement.

Victorians and spurned lovers

Both actually felt the same way. Think about it. Victorians were people of an era who felt that they came to the pinnacle of knowing everything there is to know about how the universe works. All of a sudden, Darwinism came along and turned the Victorian paradigm on its head. There's all this confusion, crying and disappointment for placing such high hopes that Victorianism, once and for all, really believed that an understanding of the universe is possible. All because this theory of evolution might refute the existence of God and pretty much everything they've ever believed in.

It's like that feeling that one feels when they really believe that they have found the person that they will be with forever and ever. All of a sudden, some external force like Darwinism creeps in and sows the seeds of doubt, ultimately leading to the idea that maybe everything was a whole lie, and maybe they'll never understand the Universe, much like how some people feel that no great person will never waltz into their life ever again. It's like these Victorian people have been dumped and now question where their lives are headed, now that their understanding has caused them so much pain.

History changes. So can relationships, whether they're with another person or even with our own minds and understanding.