In one of his chapters, Chuck creates a scene that I will probably never forget. He is driving in his rental car, thinking about Eric Clapton's validity as a human being/guitarist and claiming that the only good music Clapton created was on Derek and the Dominos' album Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs. I don't really listen to Clapton, so I can't argue with him in my head and I'll have to resort to keeping his opinion in the back of my mind in the future whenever I consider Eric Clapton. During his consideration of Clapton, Chuck imagines that one of his best friends (and former lovers) Quincy appears in the passengers seat. She argues that Chuck views relationships all wrong. For example, she says, the year before they (Quincy and Chuck) had sex for the first time, she viewed the time they spent together as having fun, while Chuck viewed it as work he had to do in order to sleep with her.
Suddenly, Lenore (Chuck's current girlfriend) appears in the backseat. She agrees with Quincy and adds that Chuck merely casts different women in a script that has him always playing the same role. She supports this with an anecdote about how he used a cheesy, romantic line on her once, then used it again two years later and merely changed out some of the words.
Then Diane (the girl he's having an affair with...? I can't keep it straight) pops up in the back next to Lenore and questions Chuck about his attraction to problematic women/women in serious relationships. She asks why he was attracted to her, if he would be attracted to her if she cut her hair and gained 40 pounds. Then Chuck argues that if he was less funny or if he stopped caring about her trivial banter, she would like him less as well. But Quincy points out that the difference between those two arguments is the reason why he doesn't understand Layla. Diane's argument is one of attractiveness; Chuck's is one of likability. Then she continues and comments that Chuck's whole writing career is based on comparing two unlike situations in hopes that they will have undiscovered symbolic meaning.
I find this whole scene fascinating. For one, the whole scene is taking place inside his head. Secondly, the three women he has loved/is currently in love with are in the same car, agreeing with one another and yet also arguing with him. I love this. I don't know why.
. . . . . . .
Something that makes me upset is that I live my life but don't remember most of it. Something that makes me upset more than most things is that I don't remember anything about the relationships that mean the most to me. Let me explain.
The relationship that has meant the most to me is the one I had with Andreina. I'm not going to lie to myself. Over the past few months I've examined our relationship from different vantage points and motivations, but what I'm always left with is the startling fact that I don't remember much about the 4 years we spent in each others' lives. What I mean is this: for a good chunk of those years, we saw each other literally every day. We spent so much time together that it was insane and crazy and yet perfect because that's what we both wanted. And yet, I can only remember several memories (by several, I mean a few hundred if I really thought hard). I don't remember the daily interactions that became the foundation of our relationship. I only remember the dramatic parts, the amazingly blissful, quietly heartbreaking, emotionally taxing situations that amount to a small fraction of the overall relationship. And more than anything, that makes me sad. Anger is a close second, but mostly, I'm just sad. I'm sad that I don't remember more things she said to me or things I said to her. She was my best friend, and yet I easily forgot everything.
I think I forget things because I don't value them enough. The reason I forgot interactions with Andreina was probably because I assumed that we would always have more. I held on to the most important memories but let the average ones fade away, unaware that I would later view every one as important but would be unable to get the forgotten ones back.
I think about her when I think about romantic relationships, because I don't want to fuck another one up like I did the one I had with her. I wonder how much a person is actually a projection of themselves in one's own mind. But disregarding that, I often think about how much she loved me, how much she hurt herself because she kept loving someone so much who couldn't (or wouldn't) return the love, and how I might never have that again. She was smart, attractive, whimsical, badass, and completely in love with me. That might never come around again. That's the reason I think about all this-my fear that I might have missed the best thing that could ever happen to me.
And I think part of the reason it fell apart was because I didn't value our relationship enough to take the time to remember. That made me ask, how can you remember the things that are important to you but currently seem inconsequential? The only answer I came up with was to write them down. Keeping a daily account of both actual events and internal thoughts is how one can chronicle, and therefore remember, the interactions that simultaneously mean nothing and yet mean everything. I think I'm going to try to do that.
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