Cracks in the Facade of Love.
The rain tapped on the thinly paned glass of our window as we sat on our worn loveseat. This was like all the Sundays before it; you and I would sit across from each other and talk about everything and nothing until the clock motioned us to return to our rooms. The weeks fly by, much like time itself, and our Sunday conversations assure me that it isn't just me who feels the supersonic speed of time. When you get older, you realize and see the value of certain things, especially the habits of those you surround yourself with. Developing intimate, adult relationships leads you to view people in a way your young mind didn't prepare you for. Rather than seeing the beauty and purity of the human spirit, you critique and observe how people engage with life. Romantic relationships bring these observations to a head, and this conversation we had just a few days ago is a beautiful example of that:
"I've been talking to this girl for a while. I don't know, but I really think she could be the one!"
“That's awesome, but what about her makes you feel this way?"
"Well, I love how she smiles. I laugh at all her jokes, even the ones that are stupid or mundane. I love how she holds me and runs her fingers through my hair when we sit together. I love how tightly she pulls me in when we dance. I love seeing her interact with other people and make them laugh, as she has done to me so many times. I love everything about this girl, except she doesn't wear matching socks."
Now, I know what you might be thinking: Does something so insignificant, like wearing matching socks, really matter when you "love" or "like" someone? And the answer is, of course, it does. How would you feel if the person you were in a relationship with was filthy and presented themselves in a disheveled or unkempt manner? Much like how I would feel, you would undoubtedly be turned off. You'd probably try to change their habits for them to be a better, more put-together person. As we continued our conversation, I realized that matching socks might be a small, seemingly insignificant thing to fixate on, but it speaks of a bigger truth.
"Not wearing matching socks is so much deeper than its initial appearance. It represents a bigger, more problematic trait: she might not take the time to care for herself. It shows that she might always be in a hurry, never caring for small, seemingly unnoticeable details about her appearance. But when do you see a person's socks?"
"When they're taking off their shoes, maybe to come into your house or before they get into bed. They're intimate, to an extent, but I do not understand why such a small action is affecting you so deeply.
"They're intimate; they imply you've been welcomed beyond the superficial. You allow a person into your space, representing that moment's closeness. It shows that you've been let into someone's life as an active participant in their narrative."
"I don't know, man, it just seems like such a stupid thing to center the future of your relationship on. Plus, that is something she can change, or learn to change at least."
"Yeah, and I totally understand that. She has all these great qualities about her, and I bet she has even more wonderful things to her that I haven't yet uncovered. It really irks me that she can't take the time to sort and match her socks; it's something so simple yet so…crucial. It says to me that she might not care for herself underneath everything she presents to the world. That's what pushes me away from her, and even though I think I might love her, it scares me to think that she might not love herself. She can't even put black socks with black, or white with white, grey with grey. It's so simple, so brainless, that's why it is so unattractive."
"Superficial, that's what I think that spiel was. You say she has all the wonderful qualities that drew you to her in the first place, yet you can't overlook something so small? Move on, man; maybe you're not ready for anything serious."
When you said that, I thought for a moment that you were right. This may be my way of shielding myself from real, genuine intimacy, something I hadn't experienced in so long. Maybe my fear of being with someone is being brought to the surface because of this minor "flaw" in this person's character. Conversations like these break down how you perceive people in a way that is so digestible. Maybe I am a harsh critic, but it's because I know what I value in a partner. I know this girl has the personality and values I've been looking for and the looks to boot. She makes me laugh and think. She is smart and kind, but her inability to do something as simple as matching her socks represents who she really is. Superficially, and even when you get just below the surface, I've found tremendous things I love and value about this person, but her core is wounded and broken.
Her mismatched socks tell a far more complex story than it appears. It paints a picture that displays beauty and elegance at the forefront, but the most minor details in the background illustrate the reality of what our artist tries so hard to hide. How could she love me when, underneath it all, she hardly can care for herself? My judgment of her is only mute if I am proven wrong, but my mismatch socks theory has been verified time and time again. To love yourself means keeping yourself tidy, respecting yourself, and valuing your appearance. Something so small, such as matching socks or keeping your hair nice, maybe even having a fresh shave daily, shows that you care and love for yourself. If you are willing to put time into the little things, the big things will be a no-brainer.