Names we attach to things, or people, are very important determinants of what we think of them, what we use them for, how we relate to them. And of course, how we judge them, people mostly. I don't know if it's just me and some friends I have, but we have a tendency to take a certain point, a characteristic out of context, and judge based on that. Not even judge necessarily, it's more playful, but here it is: we name people. Nicknames, funny names, connected to funny stories. It's a way to keep people whose names we do not take the effort to remember in our heads somehow.
For instance, we are interviewing a bunch of candidates for tech positions in our lab. There are kids - they seem so young - walking up and down the hallway in nice suits day in and day out: there was "Babyface", "C cubed", "Quiet girl", "Crazy guy" and so on, I don't even remember them all. I'm sure that if some of these people actually join our lab and we become friendly with them, we'll all learn their names, but for now, it's easier this way.
And then there are other nicknames, mostly made up by a particular friend, who gets confused when I tell her about the crushes I have, or the crazy men I have met throughout the years. So she has given most of them nicknames: "Homeless guy" (he wasn't actually homeless), "Old guy", "Child molester" (we were never sure he was actually one), "Postdoc candidate", "Gymnast from ground floor", "Semi flat basketball aka SFB" (don't even ask!), "Flakey guy", "Scooby Doo" and "Ex future husband" - this latest one, it was my fault entirely. One day I saw this guy at a coffee shop and I announced that he was going to be my future husband. Surprisingly, I ended up meeting the guy not much later, and after a few coffees together, it turned out he was already someone else's husband, hence, "Ex future husband". So it's possible that names given to people can change and thus, the way we relate to them changes.
And then there is a person I call "The love of my life" sometimes, quite misleading, actually, and it's all my fault. It's just that he has been the only man I was ever romantically or physically involved with, who has always treated me with respect, who has never lied to me and who's been a more or less consistent presence in my life. So it was tempting to believe that this is in fact what I should strive for, hope for, whatever it is that we do when we meet someone we think might be the one. The One. But none of this matters because he is already someone else's One and despite of what I've been making myself believe, it's not unfair, it's just life. It's rather fair to him and his One, and I just haven't met very many good guys. That's just it. I don't know why today was any different, but something we talked about this morning made me think all day. Nothing conscious, it was just in the back of my mind all day. And then one moment this thought popped into my head: he's no the love of my life, he's my friend. A friend who listens, a friend who compliments, a friend who makes me feel really good.
Suddenly, things seem to make more sense. Not everything is so black and white.
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