can't help wondering where I stand

Today is something of a proud day for me, as a routine check of the referral logs has revealed that Armagideon Time is currently the #1 Google result for "how to tell if you are wasting your time on a man."

Eat my dust, Dr. Phil!

I suppose that celestial concordance of specific phrasing and keyword usage obligates me to address the problem in question. With mild power comes mild responsibility, after all. While I do not possess any fancy formal training or a string of high-falutin' degrees, I do have a modicum of empirical wisdom which can be brought to bear upon the matter.

According to the immortal Bard (in Sonnet 116, which was incorporated into our wedding vows):

Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken

It sounds lovely and dreamy, but it's actually a load of horseshit. Horsehit that smells like roses, but horseshit nonetheless. True love is a paradox, a mutagenic constant that threads all manner of alterations and revisions around and about the ever-fixed mark of loyalty and affection.

In the initial goo-goo eyes phase, one's beloved can do no wrong. In the infatuation hangover phase, the little and not-so-little flaws begin to reveal themselves. Providing that the bonds of devotion weather the stresses of reality, things settle into a pattern of acceptance of your partner's less desirable quirks and the conscious or unconscious attempt to control your own. It's not a perfect process, nor does it immunize you from the occasional dust up, but there is a sense of "US" which overrides two distinct or oppositional "MEs."

Or she realizes that you're never going to quit being a prick and you realize that she's never going to ditch those pain-in-the-ass friends of hers, and you go your separate ways. It can be a tough call to make, but there's no point in prolonging things when it's clear that the two of you will never, ever be on the same page. It's best to face things honestly...and by that I mean "not screwing up a good thing because I'm a restless, self-absorbed shitheel devoid of any sense of honor."

It all comes down to my dad's advice on vice, a maxim that also applies to romance: "If it brings you more pain than pleasure, it's time to give it up."

The Daughters of Eve - Don't Waste My Time (from a 1967 single) - In Narnia, where garages are few and far between, it's called "wardrobe rock."

Grassella Oliphant - Get out of My Life, Woman (from The Grass Is Greener, 1967) - Exorcism through funk. The power of the groove compels you.

bard boy in the space age

Why is my verse so barren of new pride,
So far from variation or quick change?
Why with the time do I not glance aside
To new-found methods and to compounds strange?
Why write I still all one, ever the same,
And keep invention in a noted weed,
That every word doth almost tell my name,
Showing their birth and where they did proceed?
O, know, sweet love, I always write of you,
And you and love are still my argument;
So all my best is dressing old words new,
Spending again what is already spent:
For as the sun is daily new and old,
So is my love still telling what is told.
-- William Shakespeare, "Sonnet 76"; with a side helping of Metal Men v1 #1 (by Kanigher, Andru, and Esposito)

Sing-Sing - Far Away from Love (from The Joy of Sing-Sing, 2001) - Some indie-pop wistfulness from Emma Anderson's post-Lush outfit.

Inspiral Carpets - This Is How It Feels (from Life, 1990) - It's good, but Carter USM's cover (from the 1993 "Lean on Me, I Won't Fall Over" single) is outstanding.