Yellow Submarine #7

"I am Don Juan DeMarco. I am the world's greatest lover. No woman has ever left my arms unsatisfied. I have given pleasure to countless women, each one more beautiful than the next. Yes, there are some who say 'Ah, but her nose is too big, and her! Her hips are too wide!', but I see what they do not. I see the beauty that is within a woman's soul, and once you show a woman that you recognize it, then she will show you all of her secrets."

All of that was shamelessly plagiarized and sloppily rearranged from 'Don Juan DeMarco'. See it. Live it. Love it. If you haven't or you don't already.

There is no great secret to love. I have in fact, stated it before, so I shall take this opportunity to expound upon the point. Just forgive me if I take a roundabout way of proving it.

At the risk of drawing the ire of all the self-avowed feminists on this site, Women are easy. I'm sure of course that excludes present company and men aren't much better. I'm also just as sure that at least two of you are quietly deliberating how best to skewer me with a pitch-fork. I only ask that you reserve your judgement until I am finished.

In my defense though, its true and the why of it truly saddens me. Most everyone is looking for love and acceptance from someone else to some degree. There are even a lot of guys who take this too far and can't let go. I actually moonlight as a relationship therapist to a few guys I know who have just such a problem. I only use women because it is in women (especially young women) that it seems the simple need for love and acceptance from another often becomes so pronounced that it turns into such an all consuming psychosis stoking the coals they are continually raking themselves over. You may meet a few guys who aren't satisfied with their body image and take it seriously to heart, but have you ever met a girl who was or otherwise didn't? Make whatever case you want about unreasonable social expectations or however else you wish to explain it, but don't deny that it is there.
____________________________________

I once had a conversation with my friend Brian. Now Brian was a gentleman of the first order and easily likened to a wooden nickel. During the course of the conversation he imparted to me how he got through high school.

"I spent my entire time in high school getting my straight friends laid. They would rent a hotel room to take their date back to and I would fix it up for them. They'd follow my advice and pay me after they got laid. Easiest money I ever made. Besides, I figured if I wasn't going to be getting laid, at least someone should through my efforts. Really simple stuff too. Incredibly boring. I would tell them, 'No honey, one rose just will not do. Make it three dozen and make sure they're red. Yes I know they are more expensive. What do you mean why? Because yellow means jealousy and white sends precisely the wrong message about your intentions! Do you want her to remain pure as the driven snow or do you want a bawdy wench? It means 'dirty girl', now just hush up and spread the petals on and around the bed...'

I had an almost 100% success rate, too! I only failed once and she was a devout Jehovah's Witness. What can I say, between an almighty deity and eternal damnation I was just no competition at all. I wasn't too disapointed, though he certainly was. We even had a little joke about it after that. Ever afterwards when they'd refer someone to seek my services they would call it 'gettin' lucky insurance' because, 'You're a hundred percent covered except for acts of god....'"

I don't want to give the impression that I condone my friend Brian's actions by telling of them to you. I only bring this story up to make a point. The reason my friend Brian was so successful (and sought after) is that he realized that to a high school girl who spends half her time tormented by her flaws and the other half thirsty to be loved despite them, such an effort on her behalf and the simple words "You're beautiful" would seem sweeter than any chocolates, any poem, or any flowers. In the mind of your average affection starved teenage girl, if a bit of sex would keep that validation coming, such was the price you payed.

When I was in high school, I once thought that women grew out of this. Some do, but I still see this tendency alive and well in women ready for their ten and twenty year reunions. Throughout my travels, in every new city I have found story after sob story of women who gave it up desperate to be loved, to have someone who cared for them...despite themselves. None of them found love. Wounded souls all. I could give several examples, but one seems to haunt me as I write of the need to be loved and the cost it exacts.
_____________________________________

When I lived in Casper Wyoming, I met this girl named Sunshine in ROTC. She was a year older, absorbed in unrequitted love for the company commander and had given herself up to hope a year earlier without result. Since then she had not stopped giving of herself to anyone who seemed to be able to give the barest promise of love. In that one single year after she lost her virginity she had amassed quite a reputation which only served to further alientate her and drag her soul and her name that much farther through the mud. What plagued her was a single cosmetic deficiency, she needed some dental work. This was why the superficial teenage boy CC wouldn't look twice at her. We became intimate friends. I was bent on showing her that she too could be loved and vowed to set the example of how she should be treated. Worried that physical intimacy would be contrary to my purpose, I refrained from pursuing it, though as time passed I noticed she began to look at me differently.

At the end of the year came the Miltary Ball. Every Miltary Ball has a Sabre Guard which stands as an arch of swords for every one to walk through as they enter the ball. The Sabres were standard Marine issue. (It seemed a bit tacky as we were an Army ROTC, but my Army Instructor was a scary, scary man so I declined to comment.) I had been thrown into ROTC and amidst its exacting structure of chivalrous meritocracy, I quickly became the fastest rising cadet there. I was on the color guard, the competition drill team and the rifle team. It seemed that everything I did was gold as long as it entailed wearing epaulettes.

I was the first to volunteer for the Sabre Guard duty. Every day after school for three weeks seven others and I held aloft our twenty pound swords. Another 'man' on the Guard was named Yates. He was physically smaller than everyone else there and had the look of a sixth grader his freshman year of High School. Naturally he had a huge Neopolean complex because of it. Naturally he was my superior officer and the second one to volunteer, aparrently not to be outdone.

Yates had asked Sunshine to the Ball. Sunshine had been asking the CC for weeks prior and she held out until the last moment still hoping he would take her even though he was already escorting someone else. The twenty-fifth hour having arrived, and absent another more compelling date, she aquiesced to Yates. Yates had no alternatives and truth was, he was desperate. It was painfully obvious to everyone but Yates it was a total pity date, but Yates was thrilled anyway. For three days before the dance he was walking around with his chest puffed out so much I expected him to start goose-stepping at any moment. Sunshine had said yes! This must mean that she had seen something in him worthy of saying yes! Laying ensconced in that simple piece of deductive reasoning was his pride and panache and he would entertain no other logical alternatives to the contrary.

I told her not to do it. I told her she would regret it. I told her she'd spend the first half of the night bored out of her gourd and the second half avoiding him and his jealous eye. She wouldn't listen. After seeing how jubilant Yates had become she had consoled herself in the knowledge, that if CC wouldn't go with her, she would at least be going, and after all "He just seemed so sad. Now look at him!"

The night of the ball the Sabre Guard went off without a hitch, despite the fact that we made our arms visibly shake and droop a little whenever someone we didn't like passed underneath. Our AI pretended not to be amused, but I knew he thought it was funny as hell when I feigned a cramp as the Principal and his wife walked under. (The Principal and my AI didn't get along.)

After everyone had arrived, we disbanded and we all changed into our formal attire. I alone remained in my uniform because I'm not going to rent an uncomfortable ill-fitting tux which made my head look like half a jellybean when I had a perfectly good uniform that already did that and came with a perfectly snazzy piece of steel.

Sunshine found me on the dancefloor," Yellow, you have to help me!"

"Why hello to you too. What's wrong?"

" Its Yates! He won't let me breathe!"

"Well what did you expect?" I couldn't stifle a chuckle.

" Just shut up and dance with me already!"

She had worn this lovely peach ensemble which seemed to have a way of accentuating all her more succulent aspects. It was enough to make a man ravenous. I made sure to tell her so, only in more suitably delicate terms. I even the caught the wayward CC casting a few sidelong glances in her direction and I brought this to her attention as well. Then of course, there was Yates. It was as if Cinderella had arrived with the frog prince. Yates had rented a limo, a tux, and a room all for this momentous occasion only to see his date flee. She was a social butterfly alighting from one man to the next in order to avoid his net. He was decidedly and understandably non-plussed.

"What are you doing dancing with my date?" roared the penguin.

"I believe you said it yourself, we're dancing. I assure you its at the lady's request. Surely you can spare her for a dance? Afterwards I will have fulfiled my obligation and would be only too happy to present her back to you."

"Yates wasn't having any of it. Step outside and we'll settle this!"

"What is there to settle? She's your date. I'm not going to keep her all evening."

"You'll give her back at once!" It struck me later that he was speaking as if I had stolen a pair of his shoes. At the moment though, my only retort was a raised eyebrow and a pregnant pause.

"Fine then. If you insist she is your's. My apologies Sunshine, but I won't get involved with this."

Sunshine drew away from me and looked as if I had gouged her heart with an ice-pick. We had been having a lovely time and I could tell she felt betrayed by the ease with which I intended to cut it short. I remained the picture of non-chalance.

"You think you can embarrass me and get away with it that easily? I demand an apology!" Mon Dieu, but Napolean was pissed off!

"If that's what's got you all riled up, I think you should take it up with your date."

"I'll take it up with you!"

The longer this went on, the more I realized Yates was not going to be satisfied. Sunshine had given him self-confidence for the first time since I don't know when. She had shown him kindness and was irrefutably an angel to him. Still, he needed someone to hate for her misbehavior. When Sunshine had chosen to dance with me I had become that villian. I was that single rat bastard personification of all the evil in the world which plagued him with worry and insecurity. In that moment I was everything he despised and was jealous of.

An interesting point before I continue. Yates had only two things going for him. He had his date and his rank. His date had already absconded to greener pastures, but he had no intention of parting with his chevrons. Yates had literally no other friends. ROTC became his social life. It was all he had and he cherished it. He was too enamored with his rank and the physical manifestations thereof to forego wearing them on his tuxedo. I have no doubt he probably voided his security deposit on the tux in the meantime and normally I would have found this either incredibly hilarious or painfully sad. However, as long as he wore his regalia he retained his rank and if I fought him then I would be open to the severest retribution for striking a superior officer, or at least a higher ranking one.

Such was the culture of ROTC that if this should take place I would fall under the strict disciplinary standards of the military and would be stripped of everything I had worked for and possibly expelled from the only high school in fifty miles. What's more, he was obviously bent on fighting and wasn't going to allow my innocence or my insouciance rob him of the satisfaction of his indignation. What could I do but assent?

"Outside then, but on one condition. We must remove our jackets. I will not fight you while you are wearing your chevrons."

He snorted his satisfaction with the arrangement and violently tore off his jacket, hurling it aside and he stormed out of the ballroom. Nope, definitely wasn't getting his deposit back.

I in turn calmly took off my jacket and sat down to a glass of punch and some light conversation with my AI.

What could I show him but pity? I wasn't going to add to the embarassment of being spurned by the only woman who ever showed him the courtesy of interest by giving him the supreme humiliation of getting his ass kicked by everything in the world he hated. He'd probably go home and kill himself. No. He had already suffered enough for one night.

Five minutes later, now madder than ever, he raged into the ballroom and turned every head in it. He looked at me. I looked at him. He saw who I was sitting with and knew that if he had attempted anything now not only would I not rise to the bait, but my calm would only make him look that more more out of his mind, very possibly jeaopardizing his rank and everything he had worked so hard for. In a moment of clarity he seemed to decide that it was better that only three people knew of his indiscretion. He apologized to the ballroom, made some lame excuse about trying to chase down a rodent (hey, I have to give him credit for his choice of allegory off the cuff) Afterwards he left immediately.

Sunshine and I sat down afterwards and she apologized for what happened. She later apologized to Yates. Yates apologized to me, and I would hear nothing of it. I even complimented him on his witticism. By monday everything was back to normal.
______________________________________________

The thing which makes so many relationships unhealthy is that they're inherently guided by selfish need. We're always looking to others to provide us with something we find lacking in ourselves. Either we're looking for someone else to compliment us perfectly or to compliment us at all.

Some people search for someone strong, because they feel weak. Some look for beauty because they feel ugly. Some look for intellect because they feel stupid.

Some people seek those they think are inferior because if they are better than their mates, at least then they can demand respect and appreciation.

Some seek inferior mates so they can improve them, like Svengali or Prof. Henry Higgins and bring a sense of worth to themselves for their acheivement.

Others consent to be run underfoot, because they think no one could love them otherwise.

Sunshine had her tooth. Yates had his stature.

Millions of people searching for happiness through the arms of another person who, most of the time isn't happy with themselves either. The cruel irony of it all is that of course, no one can give you anything which you cannot give yourself. Put another way, if you're not enough without someone to call your own, then you'll never be enough with them.
___________________________________________

I don't pretend that I have never succumbed to the seduction of self hate. For a time after a particularly, particularly nasty break up and all the chaos which ensued, I was convinced that no one worth loving could ever love me. How could they after I had acted so shamefully? For a time, I foolishly gave up on love. Luckily love did not give up on me.

I met a girl who knew who I was and where I had been and loved me unreservedly anyway. She showed me how to love and be loved wholely and for who I was, not what I was. She taught me the single most important truth in all the world.

To love is easy, but it all hinges on self-respect. To love is to recognize fault and be smitten anyway with the beauty of soul. It is easy to love another like this when you are happy with yourself. But if you could not afford this courtesy to yourself, how could you ever expect to afford it to anyone else?

It is simple. To love is to be loved and to love in return.

I guess my only dealbreaker is that I will have nothing to do with anyone who would expend my self-respect for her own nefarious devices. That itself is only due to the fact that without self-respect I could never respect her.

One last anecdote before I go on why I am a romantic:

My dad once sat down and explained to a twelve year old me how to kiss a woman properly. I asked him why it was so important that it couldn't wait a year or two. He told me," Because soon you will start dating and then soon afterwards you will have your first kiss. I want you to experience it as it was meant to be experienced because a single kiss from the right woman is not only worth dying for, but more importantly it is worth living for."

He then bought me a chocolate shake, which I liked so much I didn't care about the brain-freeze until long after it had already hit me. Worst headache of my life. I tell myself now that it was not the milkshake that made me feel like my brain was being chiseled by an angry monkey with a jackhammer, but rather it was my dad's wisdom being permanently etched into my brain.

I still hold that sentiment as my ideal in a relationship.

The kissing part, not the monkey part.

____________________________________________

I am Yellow Submarine. I am the greatest lover in the world. No woman has ever felt the brush of my lips or the warmth of my embrace and not melted beneath my touch. I have been blessed with the love of many good women and have given the most precious gift of all, self-respect to countless others, each one more deserving than the next. Yes, there are some who would say," But she is a whore, and her! She is ugly!" I see what they do not. I see the beauty of their soul. I know that once you recognize and respect the beauty they possess within, they will lay bare their greatest gift before you, the love of their soul. And there is no greater gift in all the world than the love of a good woman.