So, in the next two installments of SATC, Carrie and Burger continue to hit some road blocks that eventually lead them to a temporary break and then a permanent break up. Their central problems are Burger's admitted jealousy of Carrie's writing success, his emotional baggage from his last relationship, and his own floundering writing career. Again, my thought? He's a big baby. Samantha lends Jerry her professional hand and launches him into advertising stardom, which later leads to a huge boost in his acting career. Charlotte tries to date after breaking up with Harry but can't. When they finally run into each other at a Jewish potluck, Charlotte apologizes for everything, confesses her love, and begs Harry to give her another chance. Harry says, "Well that's not good enough. Charlotte York, will you marry me?" Miranda still yearns for Steve and finds herself inviting him over to watch TV and decorating cupcakes for his girlfriend just to be near him. She also cuts back at work in order to be more present for Brady.
Breakups and reunions. It just goes to show you the circle of life and love--the ebb and flow of relationships in all of our lives, or something like that. Charlotte's speech and Harry's proposal may be the most touching moment of the entire series. It makes me (again) realize how mediocre an actress SJP is compared to her supporting cast! Now, a bit about Burger and Carrie.
I have to admit that while I never did like them as a couple, I can see where they were coming from when they fell for each other. They had amazingly similar interests, the same career, same sense of humor, similar ideas of what's important in life, and compatible sexual chemistry (even if they did get off to a rocky start). There were no huge, red flags that told either of them to run the other direction. This was unusual for SATC, which tends to typecast people. The women are usually able to see immediately which dates are losers and winners and get rid of the bad ones, even if their judgements seem a little harsh and quick to the rest of the world. In real life, it's never that easy to tell.
No, Carrie and Burger seemed great together, except that they didn't. It's amazing to me what outsiders can tell about someone else's relationship--whether it will last or not, what problems there are, if the chemistry seems healthy or not. Sure, they may not always be right about the outcome, but they can sure read a lot from very little information. While Steve is probably correct that only the two people in a union know about the union, it still seems that other people can have insights about a relationship that the two people in it can't--at least not right away. Carrie's friends seemed to echo my feelings and thoughts about Burger at nearly every turn. Yes, he was charming, but.... Yes, they seemed to have similar interests, but... Why was there always a but--for me and for them--when they seemed like such a great couple?
That is a mysterious question to which the answer is somewhat elusive. I know I don't often know why I get certain feelings about couples I meet and ones I see on movies. I don't know why I like some couples more than others or why I don't like (or trust) certain of my sisters' and friends' boyfriends and do others, especially when all signs seem to point one way, but my gut points the other.
And it goes both ways. I've had certain beaus, like Arnold, that my family never really connected with, though they always voiced their support. No matter how many nods my father gave me regarding our union, I just knew he didn't like Arnold, though he never said it. I've had partners that my family and friends downright hated, like Billy. In this case, one friend and certain family members wouldn't even talk about the relationship with me, because they felt it was so wrong.
Some boyfriends my family and friends loved, like Travis and Jorge. In both cases, people actually cried when we broke up. I don't think it was because they were extremely sad we were no longer together, but more because they had to break up with him too. It was like saying goodbye to family. With other boyfriends, like Brad, people were just slow to give support, either because they were skeptical or scared for me. They didn't really ask how things were going and didn't smile wholeheartedly when I told them anyway that things were fine.
And then there's Hank. From day one, he passed every test, even when neither of us knew he was being tested. He didn't try hard. I didn't convince anyone how great he was. As a matter of fact, I don't really know what, if anything, was different about the way I presented him to friends and family versus other boyfriends of the past. But their reactions just felt different. My dad took him hunting the first time he stayed at my parents' place, and my dad has never gone on an outing alone with any of his daughters' boyfriends. Even when I tell people about our fights, they don't give me that look, like "Why are you still with him?" They just listen peacefully. Even my most cynical sister speaks as if Hank and I will someday marry, though I don't talk about it with her. And lately, they're all telling me to have kids already, which I guess is a good sign they're supportive of my relationship.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying other people's opinions are the most important thing. As a matter of fact, I have lived most of my life trying to ignore any feedback one way or the other. (Remember, I am a stubborn, eldest child.) But it's interesting when feedback varies so drastically from boyfriend to boyfriend, and it's even more interesting when other people's predictions or hesitations end up coming true or having good reason. As much as we hate to admit it, maybe other people can see our relationships more clearly than we can. Hey, that's why therapists exist, right?
Well, where does that leave us? The funny part of other people's opinions is that you're lucky if you get them, even when you ask. And if you have to ask, it's generally not a great sign (if you believe in signs, which I wish I didn't but do). Most of the time, people tell you what they think you want to hear. I do the same to my friends and sisters. If I know someone is serious about a guy or girl, I will look for the positive, even if the vibe I'm getting isn't great. If they ask, I may put something out there like, "Well, it's strange that he _______, but it doesn't mean it couldn't work out." Let's face it: no relationship is perfect, and no person is perfect for another person. And it happens often that when a couple seems perfect, it often isn't, even if the people in it try to convince themselves it is--like Charlotte and Trey.
And maybe that's the point of all of this: what seems perfect isn't perfect, and what doesn't seem perfect is perhaps the very height of perfection. Maybe a couple that works (in their minds and in the minds of their family and friends) isn't the couple that looks like or thinks it has it all together. Arnold and I were very much the latter, and we just kept the bad stuff--the fact that he wanted to have a same-sex relationship before marrying me or that his mother and I hated each other--hidden. No, the couple that works is maybe the one that has just the right balance of real issues (imperfections, if you will) and greatness, bad things and good things, fights and truces, yin and yang. There's no formula for figuring out whether a couple (yours or someone else's) has that balance. If there was, it would be worth billions of dollars. But people just know on some level. Or they don't. Or they're not sure. And that's part of the magic of love and life. Who wants a formula?
I hope you'll be back. I will.
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