Having feelings for more than one person over the years is so interesting to me. I tried to do a small exercise to get in touch with my feelings (because I’m generally a detached bitch and so on and so forth).
I was listening to a song by Lana that I used to listen to a lot when I first got with my first love, which has the quality of bringing me back visually to that period with an eerie accuracy, almost like an open-eyes dream. The song also brought me back into the feelings I had for him at the time, which are quite different from what I feel for him now, and I basked in it for a while. I then opened my eyes and tried to focus on the most recent person I developed feelings for, and this was a bit easier as it’s closer in time.
I was shocked to find out how radically different the two feelings were, not in intensity but in quality. I don’t mean it in any pejorative or ameliorative way at all, for I do have a deep devotion for the few times i’ve been soft for someone, regardless of the outcome. But it struck me how.....different they felt.
The feeling I associated with my first love was dense and enchanting, something captivating and mysterious that has a sense of danger associated to it - a danger of wanting more and not being able to focus away. A sweet and sophisticated flavour - like fine dining or rare liquor. An energy not open but entrenching, that I associate with addiction, or dreams. Something you want to sink in, not run with. Almost feminine and mermaid-like in its quality, with a melancholy that doesn’t come from remembering, but is intrinsic in the feeling itself - that I recall being present from the very beginning. Something beautiful, sophisticated, and intoxicating in its complexity.
If I had to associate the feeling to a song t’d be Old Money by Lana del Rey. If I had to associate it to an element it would be water, specifically sea-water, deep and purple-blue.
The second feeling for the new boy was diffuse and broadening, with an almost physical quality- like sunlight penetrating your closed lids. That tingling feeling that precedes a sneaky smile you can’t hold back. Something open, greater than you, that takes you in and makes you feel dizzy and lightheaded. Intoxicating, but in a different way: it doesn’t daze you but makes you wanna run and sing at the top of your lungs. A foreign beach in broad daylight- like stepping into a primordial Garden of Eden. There’s an element of danger to it, too, like being somewhere you’re not supposed to see. Wide spaces, light, nature, the sense of unspoken pleasures awaiting. Something you can’t control. A sense of curiosity you can’t hold back, the bitterness of a lemon on your lips. Touching something for the first time. Something sharp, competent, appealing, and somewhat detached, which makes you feel childish and silly compared to it.
If I had to associate the feeling to a song, it’d be Solar Power by Lorde. Its element would be air - like the wind against a sail.
How can we attach the same name “love”, to two things that feel so different from one another? They’re both slightly alienating, dangerously appealing, but the difference between the two is not subtle: it’s drastic.
