All grown up and nowhere to go

Archive for June 2011

I’ve been submerging myself with all things Sex and The City lately. Reading the prequels (The Carrie Diaries and Summer In The City), which focused on Carrie’s growing-up story and spun out to how she first met Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte. Then I read the book the series was based on, then I started watching the series from Season 1.

No matter how many new shows crop up which revolve around single career women, they’ll never replace SATC. The SATC movies were a little disappointing, but those first few episodes of the series were a gem. I’ve just watched an episode from Season 2 titled “The Chicken Dance”, which left a deep impression on me… about commitments.

Carrie had just revived her relationship with the perennially commitment-phobic Mr Big. She’d made some remarkable breakthroughs, with him providing her a permanent pink toothbrush head at his place and then agreeing to go with her to a wedding. Carrie was previously asked to do a poem reading at said wedding, which Mr Big said he wouldn’t miss for the world. Unfortunately on the day of the wedding, an uneasy-looking Mr Big refused to sign the gift card together with Carrie, and he also left halfway through Carrie’s poem on account of a business call. This was Carrie’s poem:

His hello was the end of her endings
Her laugh was their first step down the aisle
His hand would be hers to hold forever
His forever was as simple as her smile
He said she was what was missing
She said instantly she knew
She was a question to be answered
And his answer was “I do”

The poem was such a huge contrast to Carrie’s relationship with Mr Big, which was shadowed with tug-o-wars of commitment. He just wanted to simply be, she wanted something more stable. He didn’t want any fuss or definition, she needed the reassurance. Simplicity was absent from them, there was no clear path of “you’re with me, let’s do things together, I’m your boyfriend and maybe someday we’ll get married.”

Unfortunately, recently I was on the wrong end of a similar commitment tug-of-war. There were talks of not being sure where each party will be in a few years’ time, in which case a commitment now will only complicate matters. There were suggestions that whatever has been going on was good enough, no declaration / definition needed. In fact, “Does it matter? You know how I feel.”

I was left confused and with the question – if the party felt for me, why couldn’t the party commit?

No matter how modernly independent I declare myself to be, deep down inside I still wish for a simple, traditional love life. Stability. Routine. Predictability.

I went overseas for a while then, to clear my head. When over there, I started tearing up in front of a painting because it reminded me of the party. Heck, everything reminded me of the party. At night, tucked into my anonymous hotel bed, I’d rationalize and say to myself, “Maybe I don’t want commitment either.” But in the end I knew it was my worse half’s way of trying to convince me to let the party back into my life. Regardless of whether I want commitment right now, I’d still like it if the party wants to be with me wholly and fully.

Looking back, I think the party knows that he has an issue with commitment. Just like Mr Big, he tries to work on it. But sometimes, like Mr Big, a white pouffy wedding might just scare him right off again, I know the party wants to only make small step by small step. I am quite touched that the party really tried.

Whatever happens next, I made a promise to keep it within the knowledge of the involved parties only. Things are still being worked out, commitments still being feared.

Anyway, SATC fans, do not read the book. It doesn’t have the same ending as the HBO series.

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