I’m in the process of cleaning out my Gmail drafts folder and I found this link tucked away in an unnamed draft from July 2013. I find Thought Catalog to be somewhat insufferable as of late but their earlier (2011 – 2012) stuff contains some select gems. This is one of them and it’s a special piece of writing, particularly since it’s 2 years later and I still enjoy it. Here’s an excerpt:
“You can set an alarm, mark it on a calendar, tattoo it on your skin and still the last time doesn’t need your permission. What you count on is that you have the power to end things, to label people ‘never again,’ to say farewell forever and mean it. What you count on is having a choice. But you don’t, and you’ll know that when you allow your heart to get broken again despite the protests you made and the caution you took.”
“Press conference starts in five,” my coworker shouts over the din to the rest of my team. A police chief is about to take to a podium to talk about the boy who’s just shot five students, killing one of them and himself in the process. While the press conference is happening, Twitter starts exploding with news that a high profile case about a missing girl has come to an end because her remains have been found. Half a minute later, there’s alerts that three officers have been shot in California. Some might call this a stressful day. My team calls it Friday.
At the beginning of this year, I concluded my very first year as a crime (and weird news!) editor. I won’t lie to you, I’m not nearly as impressive as my teammates. My job is primarily social media based and my coverage of crime news is wholly useless without them. Many members of my team are reporters who find comfort in the chaos down at crime scenes or in the thick tension of a court room. Others are editors with the uncanny ability to go to most any length to get to the truth of a story. I never intended to work in crime news, certainly not for lack of interest, but rather an egregious lack of awareness.
When I started last January, I was like most people my age when it came to crime news. I knew the big stories – the Amanda Knoxs, Ariel Castros, and the BTKs of the world. But, as is true with most things, you never realize what you’re not seeing until you’re in the thick of it. I had never realized exactly how much of the world’s evil and general insanity that I had shielded myself from until I was all but consumed by it. Every single day I found – and still find – myself talking and reading about murder, rape, school shootings, missing persons, and more than you could ever possibly imagine that falls within and beyond those boundaries. It wasn’t until recently that I had that moment where I said to myself, “Have I really been that oblivious to this all along?”
If you follow no other column within the New York Times, do yourself a favor and check out “Modern Love.” Every week, they deliver a poignant and deeply profound look at love from perspectives that are often vastly different than your own but also intensely relatable. The one from the past week is something everyone should read.
“Most of us think about love as something that happens to us. We fall. We get crushed.
But what I like about this study is how it assumes that love is an action. It assumes that what matters to my partner matters to me because we have at least three things in common, because we have close relationships with our mothers, and because he let me look at him.
I wondered what would come of our interaction. If nothing else, I thought it would make a good story. But I see now that the story isn’t about us; it’s about what it means to bother to know someone, which is really a story about what it means to be known.
It’s true you can’t choose who loves you, although I’ve spent years hoping otherwise, and you can’t create romantic feelings based on convenience alone. Science tells us biology matters; our pheromones and hormones do a lot of work behind the scenes.
But despite all this, I’ve begun to think love is a more pliable thing than we make it out to be. Arthur Aron’s study taught me that it’s possible — simple, even — to generate trust and intimacy, the feelings love needs to thrive.”
Read the whole piece here.