Love as a series of conveniently opposed preferences
Esme Rilke once believed that love would become evident upon the sharing of a fruit salad.
When she first had this notion, she hated cantaloupe (for some reason, this no longer holds true) and adored grapes. Love then, in her youthful imagination, would mean sharing a fruit salad with someone who adored cantaloupe and hated grapes. That way, he would eat her cantaloupe, she would eat his grapes, and they would be blissfully happy until the end of time.
Nicole no longer believes in love. Well, obviously. Looking for love in conveniently opposed preferences is bound to lead to disappointment. You’ll just end up with some cantaloupe-loving loser who also hates the music you like (and thus doesn’t hassle you about burning your CDs), the animal you own (and never gets in your way by trying to take care of it) and the entire life you’ve chosen.
Even so, I think it’s a beautiful idea. It’s like seeing people as puzzle pieces linked together by their opposites, the first person filling in the other’s grape gap while the second person fills in the first’s cantaloupe gap. These two people would become a perfect being, loving and hating everything in the world.
Theoretically, if all the gaps and ungaps fit perfectly, you’d have a relationship free from arguments over who gets what, since both people would hate whatever the other likes. This wouldn’t guarantee love, but it could blast one of the barriers to it. Unless you like sharing.
If you were to apply the fruit salad theory of love to YOUR life, what would your perfect match look like?
6 years ago