Suckers
The first principle in any relationship, work, or life in general rests on the fact that we are governed by the rule of reciprocity.
When you have an appreciation for that rule, you can generally extrapolate from that and come to a fair understanding of the state of human relationships.
Reciprocity is the principle that when you give, you receive. You do me a favour, and I do one for you in return. It is mostly an unsaid, unmentioned rule - largely because if you've lived by it all your life, you should never have to bring up the fact that you expect anything less than that. Also, decorum dictates that we do not embarrass another by 'asking' to be reciprocated: typically, a hint suffices.
So how does reciprocity work? There are a few ways, the simplest of it is this: you do something for another, you expect something in return, probably of a similar value (monetary or in kind, that is entirely up to you to judge). Suppose that, today, I pay for your meal. Tomorrow, you'll pay for mine, particularly if it comes to something similar in value. I won't bring up the fact that I had paid for your meal, because it is an unwritten rule that you should reciprocate, and of course there is the expectation that you will do 'what is right'.
Reciprocity also works in the 'negative' sense as well. If you kill my brother, I will want to kill you - i.e. revenge, vengeance. Vengeance is but reciprocity, but expressed in a negative manner.
Naturally, most of us understand the power of this social contract; to violate it will cause discomfort and unease, and only people in love or people so religiously compelled won't expect reciprocation from another individual. And why do I say that it is the base rule for most human relationships?
Take any situation where there is a giving or taking involved and explore it for a second: see if you find an exchange between the parties involved. E.g. the buskers on the street singing / dancing for all to see: you see them sing, feel a twinge of appreciation / pity /
However, reciprocity works best under the 'Best Left Unsaid' rule: it is most powerful when the expectation is not communicated, but inherently required; it is weakest when violaters of the rule find a way around it.
Reciprocity is not a well-understood principle for those in love, those who are loved, and the many shades of love that colour the space between.
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If you understand what I mean by that principle, then you will understand where I'm coming from when I talk about what I want to next...
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A while back, when I felt bad about having stopped blogging, I mentioned that I wanted to write a post about succubi. I've changed my mind somewhat about what I wanted to say on that topic.
Largely speaking, I think the idea behind being a succubus is that being one violates the reciprocity principle because there is one party willing to give (the lovesick fool most likely), and one party culpable and capable of leeching (the beneficiary).
The theme is all too familiar to people who have fallen for the likes of, among others, gold diggers, irresistibly beautiful women, the aloof characters, and all manners spanning the various categories.
I find that women who are incapable of giving are attractive (and that, in part, has been my failing). They demand your time, your energy, and have an inordinate ability to consume more of either. Like the drug addict in The Protege (Ed note: great drama, go see), they'll say anything to get what they can from you (within limits - I exaggerate the extent of their machinations of course).
I don't think it is that such women are incapable of loving others; I just think that they cannot love another more than they love themselves. Like the narcissist who falls in love with his own reflection, their sole purpose in life is self-gratification. The love for themselves compel them to find others who can shower love upon them - it is a means by which they find meaning for their pithy existence. It is the only they have the assurance that they are not loving themselves solely, but that there are others who feel they're worthy of love too.
However, the inability to give to others is what fails for the succubus: she takes and is unable to give in return, in a suitable way or for a suitable amount. The relationship with a succubus is doomed because the giver (lovefool) has expectations, and these expectations being unmet will generate discontent. Ultimately, there comes a point where discontent leads to hate, and leads to ill will.
I have the notion that people can change. I have also a probably naive notion that people can change for love. I don't necessarily mean romantic love though, for love exists in many forms and ways (and Valentine's Day should have brought home that point, both with the singletons and the couplings out there).
I don't think love changes people as much as the giver (lovefool) wants to, and for that, humans are such failures. Perhaps this is also the reason why some find religion to be the perfect escape: when one has received love unconditionally, what else is there to ask for from another uncaring human being?
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In retrospect, I have learnt little from loving others, except to know that I have also been one to give too little in return - perhaps what I see in myself has been reflected in what I see in others. In all too real a manner, I have surrounded myself with people that I know are a reflection of my true nature. In so doing, I have never felt more alone.
I have never felt more like an island, adrift.
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