Courtly Love

I’ve always loved Dante.

I read Dante’s Inferno when I was 12 and I reread it about once every 2 years. I think it will permanently reside in my literary to ten. I love his sculptures as well, mainly due to his extremely dynamic in potential energy.

It’s bitchin.

But I think the thing that has always intrigued me most about Dante is Beatrice.

Dante only met Beatrice twice in his entire life, and the meetings took place over a period of 9 years. They met twice in 9 years.

2 times.

9 years.

Yet, Dante claimed, Beatrice influenced every aspect of his life.

It’s all so stinking beautiful.

It’s, what they called I the middle ages, “courtly love.”

Courtly Love - a secret, unrequited and highly respectful form of admiration for another person.

I think most guys today can relate to this in some sense.

When I was in kindergarten, I remember having a crush on a girl who I NEVER spoke to once. Yet, I thought about her every day and even when I moved to a different school, the vision of her and her “My Little Pony” quilted jacket stayed pleasantly in my thoughts for many years.

By junior high, I had found another courtly love and because we both finished our tenure at the same school she, to this day I still have much “courtly love” for this person and she is none the wiser.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

When I moved to Auburn I discovered yet another courtly love…does this mean I’m a polygamist of some sort? Anyway, same deal, I don’t want ANYTHING from these women other than what I already have from them.

Sweet, Sweet, existence.

These women do not intimidate me at all. I have asked out/dated girls who are “prettier,” I love talking to new people, and rarely find it hard to strike up conversation with anyone that looks even slightly interesting. I just choose not to seek relationships with these women, because they are perfect in my fantasy of them.

They’ll never roll their eyes at a stupid joke even after they’ve laughed at a hundred others.

They’ll never nag me to do something that they themselves are too lazy or scared to even attempt.

They’ll never question my intent or think my emotions are any less valid because they’re not the same as hers.

They’ll LET me do nice things for them.

They’ll listen to me AND hear me.

They’ll never use guilt.

They aren’t my cupcake.

They are my icing.

The perfect girl is not a girl I need.

She is a girl I want.

So, this blog isn’t a sad, pathetic plea for a woman…I HATE that shit and I’m doing better than ever in my little tattoo shop on the plains, thank you very much.

It isn’t a knock on my exes or “friendly friends.” I’ve been overly blessed with my past romances and have loved/been loved by some amazing women.

…in amazing ways ;)

just kidding…

;)

This blog is more of a tribute to the women that mean so much by just being.

They’ll never know how much they mean to this pig-tailed giant. They’ll never hear the songs, or see the drawings, or read the poems, or be aware of how they brightened a thousand of my days just because I once saw one of them in the hall and the way the sun touched their hair through stained Straughn windows was…perfect.

Dante would say

"La gloriosa donna della mia mente"

"the glorious lady of my mind".

So, I’m telling all of you, without telling any of you.

Thanks.

And people say I’m not romantic.

ARE YOU FUCKIN CRAZY!

:)