Sam Godfrey
Managing Editor

“This is my boyfriend, and this is my girlfriend.”

My friend gestured to the tall boy standing to her right, and then to me, standing to her left. Repeating a scenario we’d played out before, the tall boy and I waved politely, offering no explanation for our introduction.

The sentence is straightforward enough, and yet was met almost without fail by confusion. People tried to reconcile their notions of sexuality, romance, relationships and nomenclature all at once. They seemed unable to slot us into their hierarchy of relationships without a clear indication of which of us – (or maybe neither or both) – were having sex with each other.

This simple interaction speaks to many widely held preconceptions of relationships, several of which I find to be not only annoying, but in many cases harmful. Primarily, I think it speaks most clearly to a societal focus on ‘couplehood’ as the most important and desirable form of relationship. By ‘couplehood’ I mean the state of being in a romantic, sexual relationship with one other person.

But why should this be assumed to be the highest form of relationship? Is there something about romantic or sexual attraction that makes it inherently superior to platonic bonds? Of course not.

But when those assumptions are in place, like any generalized assumption, they have negative impacts. They can be mere annoyances, like people asking your partner something on your behalf, as if being in a sexual/romantic arrangement with someone makes the two of you a single organism, negating the need to interact with both of you. But they can also be more detrimental than that, having the very real ability to erase the possibility of other forms of relationships.

Consider the scenario I described above, where my friend introduced both a boyfriend and a girlfriend. By introducing me as her girlfriend, after she had already introduced a boyfriend, people became confused. Either I was not her girlfriend, or he was not her boyfriend. The need for this clarification posed absolutely no effect on them to save to be able to better classify us in their minds.
And what of polyamorous relationships? What if we were in a lovely three-person triangle of romance and sexual attraction? For the majority of people, considering this form of relationship is not even on their radar, let alone within their ability to accept it as legitimate and healthy.

And to consider yet another perhaps atypical type of relationship: what of those formed by people who simply do not, can not, experience romantic and/or sexual attraction? They are people too, and their love and intimacy is not any weaker because of these stipulations. To think or say so would be close-minded, hurtful, and condescending.

My friend chose to use people’s preconceptions of relationship hierarchies to her advantage, choosing her words to indicate not the type of relationships she was in, but rather their importance to her. She wanted to make it clear that, regardless of who she was having sex with or not, the both of us were incredibly loved by her, and she incredibly loved by us.

Let me make it clear that I am not harping on sexual/romantic couples. They’re wonderful! Even considering the theory of infinite universes, there exists no version of myself where I don’t love people in love. It’s beautiful, it’s special and it makes them happy. I would be a terrible person to say that their happiness is built on a sham. More than that, I’d be completely wrong. For some people, a sexual/romantic relationship is the most important relationship, and their partner is the most important person to them.

What I am saying is that for many other people, this is not the be-all end-all of human interaction. I am saying that we should all consider that being in love isn’t necessarily confined to sexual/romantic relationships. I am saying that for many people, couplehood is one relationship among many, each as special and unique as the rest, each having importance dictated by things other than feelings of romance and sexual attraction.

Some of you may still be asking, “So are you her girlfriend? Or are you just friends?”

Well, no. To both. She’s not my girlfriend and I’m not hers. But to preface the word ‘friend’ with ‘just’ is equally inaccurate. We are friends, we love each other, we’re in love with each other.

I’m not asking you to feel guilty about your own relationships, or saying that you’re wrong if romance and sex help you feel close to a person. What I am hoping is that you’ll consider changing the way you think about relationships: those of others and your own. Consider that for myself, and many others, there is quite simply no such thing as “just friends”.

Ana Qarri
The Silhouette

While the Student Union is trying to convince you to #DiscoverYourCity, I’m here to convince you that if you’re looking for a romantic getaway it’s time to #DiscoverYourUnderConstructionCampus.

With a variety of fenced off areas, dug out pavement, and safety hazards to choose from,  you could really give your date that certain ‘je ne sais quoi’ it’s been missing.

If you are starting your day of romance on Main and Emerson, your first stop should naturally be the beautiful new addition to our campus: that slightly awkward hill that was once densely vegetated.

Slowly walk around the hill before you take a seat on one of the benches. It is completely understandable if you hesitate to do so due to the jaw-dropping architectural design of these masterpieces. The tiny seat dividers found on the benches will serve as a reminder that you need to get to know your date before getting serious. It’s all in the bylaw.

Have a great conversation with your date while enjoying the serene sounds of Main Street West.

After life stories have been shared, start walking towards the student centre. As you approach the front doors, point out the location of the future Starbucks – a place of historical significance. Soon, the ability to walk through this hallway without making uncomfortable body contact with someone else will become a thing of the past, remembered only by those who lived to see both eras.

Walk to the MUSC Atrium where you will find the fireplace. Take a seat with your date, and observe the movement of Mac students. Think that this is nature at its best and give your date a knowing smile. They’re probably thinking the same thing.

The next stop is (obviously) the nuclear reactor. You can’t miss this one. It stands tall on the west side of campus as a constant reminder of death to those who fear heights. The university has conveniently placed a picnic table next to the reactor building, acknowledging the frequent use of this location as a romantic spot.  (Pro-tip: the strange structure of the General Sciences Building makes for some good hidden make-out spots. Proceed at your own risk.)

If your date is still sticking around, you’ve got yourself a keeper. At this point, the route you take is totally up to you. If plants and mosquitoes are your thing, head down to Cootes. If you haven’t had enough of construction zones, take a walk to the Wilson Building and pay a visit to the statue by MDCL. If you want to look at the blue skies of Hamilton, there’s the Ten Acre field.

The possibilities are endless. McMaster is your oyster.

Em Kwissa / The Silhouette

Sam Godfrey / Senior InsideOut Editor

 

How did we meet?

We met in Moral Issues. I don’t remember meeting you formally. You just came up to me and said, “Hey my housemate and I think you’re super cool, want to come over for dinner sometime?”

I didn’t know your name. But I knew your housemate’s and I found you in a picture on his Facebook wall. You were under a blanket and the caption said, “My demand for blankie is greater than the supply.” And I knew, “That’s her.”

And then I sent you a message promising to get you pregnant. I mean, there was more to it than that. But I remember thinking “That’s not a promise I can keep.”

OH also I initially thought you and your housemate were together, and after I agreed to come over I worried it was maybe an untoward situation. More promises I couldn’t keep.

 

What is your favourite bro activity that we participate in together?

The first bro based activity we did (and it’s sentimental for that reason) is we made a lot of layered food. By a lot I mean two. Like nacho lasagna.

I feel like we laid the foundation of our bromance as we laid every layer of that nacho lasagna.

I feel like a lot of our bromance is food-based. A lot of my bromances are food-based. I can’t think of a bromance that’s not food-based. (Unless… Can it be beer-based?)

Wait, we also pass each other notes in class. Do bros do that? That’s probably the romance part of the bromance.

 

Obviously we have got tons in common – like, hello – but what are some differences that are equally important to our friendship?

Other than puns. Let’s not speak of puns. Well, I feel like you’re a lot more in touch with your emotions.

 

Even though you cry more.

 

Even though I cry all the time. Happy cries.

You can also internet much better than I can.

 

WHAT? NO. I DISAGREE.

 

Okay, no, we internet similarly. I’m drunk more often than you are. You can draw pretty things. (I just tried to spell that p-r-I-t-t-y, but Word was like “no.”) You don’t look like you got dressed in the dark. Which is an indirect way of saying you look nice. I feel like I embarrass myself in public more than you do. No, wait, that’s similar.  You watch a lot more animal-slash-body fluid videos. Maybe we should word that differently. “Medical videos,” yeah. You know a lot of cool idioms. Sometimes I try to keep up. And you’re good at keeping me in line in public. But also accepting me. But also telling me when to reel it in. “That’s okay, but only in private. Not in the grocery.”

 

You always wear your hair up. You hate dresses. I love dresses. You know way more fabulous gay people than I do. You’re a better student than I am. You’re more activities-oriented.

 

You’re better at having good thinks. Like, your blog is great. It’s like, you use your life to illustrate things about other people’s lives. Even though your life is not like other people’s lives. I’m saying “life” a lot. And I’m not even playing Life. Your anecdotes are less family-friendly than mine – even though hashtag SHEC. You used to flail a lot less than I did, sorry. Sorry.

 

Pop quiz: Compare and contrast “bros” and “romance,” with “bromance.”

When I think “bros” I think about specific activities: sports bros, coffee house bros, work bros.

And “romance,” I was thinking about the difference between romance and friendship the other day, actually. The only thing I could come up with was the kissing. But even then, there are romances that don’t have kissing.

Well because you have Head Feels, Heart Feels and Pants Feels – and you’re looking for the trifecta.

Friendship is just Brain feels, like “I’m so into your brain.” With some Heart Feels. But no Pants Feels. Maybe that’s what friendship is.

That makes it sound like you’re less in the trifecta, when you’re just as much a part of it: you don’t even need them.

 

What’s it like being the coolest one in the relationship?

That’s a loaded question.

I think it’s very fortunate that we both think the other one is cooler.

Usually it’s not like that. Usually one person thinks they’re cooler than the other, all “Yeah, you’re lucky to have me.” And the other person feels like they don’t deserve them.

But here we both feel lucky, it’s just like “GUYS. GUYS. LOOK HOW COOL MY FRIEND IS,” for both of us.

I bet other people get sick of it. I know my mom does. “When do I get to meet Sam?” “How is Sam?” “Seen Sam lately?”

Pfft. What a ludicrous question.

 

What’s the best part of being in a bromance? And/or what is different between a bromance and a regular friendship?

I think the difference is that when you’re in a friendship you have all of the things that are going to satisfy your friendship needs. Things that don’t require the African Violet.

Bromance you are excited about the friendship itself.

I don’t just get excited about you, because let’s be honest you’re pretty great, I’m also crazy about the bromance itself.

So you’re great, and the friendship is great: Two levels of fan-fricken-tastic.

Our friendship is like this third awesome person that’s the best parts of us.

Don’t.

Cry.

 

How do you feel about people assuming we are lesbian for each other? (Yeah, like we are lesbian specifically for each other, give me a break.)

I’m always very flattered, and I also like to play that up because it’s hilarious. I feel like that’s a small way of being an ally. Is that offensive?

If you ask us if we’re lesbian for each other we’ll probably say yes.

 

Like that time Kate asked how we knew each other and I said we were sleeping together. And she was like, “I meant before that.” There is no before that. I don’t know when you count from, but there’s no before.

 

How do you feel when people think we’re sleeping together?

I think it’s hilarious.

It’s not insulting, because first of all, you’re hot, and second, being gay isn’t a bad thing.

It’s like when people think I’m a natural blond. Silly, but hey.

(At this point Em took a Yo-Yo off the coffee table and began using it. Obviously she is very affected by the homoerotic undertones of our relationship.)

 

Would you still love me if I were fat?

I would love you if… Okay:

I would call Guinness and report you as the fattest person on Earth and stand by you as they took your picture and I’d want to be reported as the person who was friends with this person. I don’t think that was even a sentence. What I’m trying to say is: yes.

Why, do you want some more nachos?

 

By Sarah O'Connor

 

I’ve always found comfort in a good book and am a frequent visitor to Chapters, Coles and Indigo. And, now that I’ve started university, I also frequent Titles (god how I love Titles.) I find myself scanning the spines of these shining, unread books and allow myself to be momentarily lost in the story.

I don’t have enough money to buy them - that money was spent on textbooks that our professors assured us would be put to good use yet have never seen the light of day. But now I’ve noticed that my visits are just as frequent. That eagerness to escape into a story is slowly depleting and is now replaced with longing. Longing for a book that’s different.

It’s no secret that romance is a big thing in literature these days. You can argue all you want on how the big stuff are paranormal, supernatural or dystopian literature. But take a good look at what you’re reading: The Mortal Instruments, The Hunger Games, Divergent. Each of these books focus on a lovesick couple (that usually grows into a love triangle) that are more concerned with loving one another than saving the world from imminent doom (or zombies).

Current authors seem to have forgotten that the days of Jane Austen are over and that in this day and age, marriage or being in a relationship does not equal having a perfect life. A story cannot be simply dystopian, supernatural or science fiction, it must have a romance to be considered good literature. But why? Are we so behind the times that we assume every person has to get married or be in a relationship in order to have meaning in life?

I used to indulge in the paranormal romance myself and enjoyed it. But after reading romance after romance after romance I couldn’t help but see how all these young unpopular women (books now-a-days usually center on a female protagonist) suddenly became someone when they are in a relationship.

It disgusts me that the message of having a true meaningful life must come through marriage or at least being romantically involved with someone, otherwise your life is dull and meaningless.

Don’t get me wrong, I support marriage and would like to get married one day, but I don’t want the idea shoved down my throat every time I open a book. I’m only eighteen. And I can’t help but think of people who are perfectly happy being single. How can they relate to these books?

We have come very far in literature these days. Progressive literature is published and read by many worldwide.

One hundred years ago this type of literature would be burned and the author probably jailed. It’s now time for authors to focus a little less on romance and a little more on adventure.

By: Oskar Niburski

I understate many things and understand even less than that. For example, I do not understand quantum mechanics, people, administration, and legal proceedings, nor can I grasp how refrigerators work, when my dog must go pee, and what I mean when I say I love you.

I have never been in love before, maybe that is why I am unable to accurately understand the notion of love. From an overview, you seem to be taking some sort of emotional average, with it’s range being everything you experienced together and transmogrified into one word. But that is just one statistical way of looking at it. If you are like me, then you tried different things - like writing a book for them.

And when all of the 181 pages are complete, you realize you have not said enough. So then you use body language and when she comments playfully about your thrusting, you quickly switch to posting 500 post-it notes on their wall, each with a unique message regarding musicals and travels and poppy seed bagels, but when that still is not enough, you try to tell them: I love you.

She stares in your direction.

Those three words have been written on everything from tree bark to washroom stalls. This arduous graffiti makes love seem slightly trivial: if cellulose has the word engraved in its atomic structure, what makes your sentence so special? This inevitable and unoriginal thought leaves you with apologies, fumbling around your own tongue, burrowing your hands deep into your pockets, forcing you to utter three more words - I am sorry – more aptly summarized as I am sorry cannot tell you how much I love you.

The word feels recherché in your mouth, and when you used it the first time, you felt like you diffused a bomb with a paperclip. Somehow, you did, and this escapes you. It escapes many, though. Love is the world’s most known and debated subject, with major religion somehow equating God into love or that the feelings we have are connected to some seraphic order.

But I am not writing to proselytize anyone, nor am I trying to consecrate the word itself. I am more likely attempting the opposite. Maybe if I outline love’s etymology I can better understand the word myself. Love, or “lufu,” comes from the German language and roughly would translate into “desire.” It has created other Anglo-Saxon derivates such as leave and lief. Interestingly, lief is just an archaic way of describing happiness.

These definitions do not aid me, however. I remember the well quoted Sonnet 18: “so as long as men can breathe or eyes can see, so long lives this, and this give life to thee.” Yet even Shakespeare never mentions love in his poem. We only have implicit references to it, which continues to cause uproar on whether Shakespeare was in love or was trying to find it still.

This is discouraging to me, because if love cannot be defined by the world’s greatest poet, what chance does the Silhouettes’ worst Opinion’s contributor have? Shakespeare’s answer seemingly was that we can only be left with the enigmatic. But I want to tell them and her and everyone else how much they mean to me. I need to do what Shakespeare didn’t. I need to capture the word’s highs and lows in all its totality.

In order to do this, I turn to the master logician, Ludwig Wittgenstein. But logic can fail too, and so Wittgenstein’s response is more than frustrating. He says that the limits of the language are the limits of his world. Blast, what good is private or public language when our vernacular fails to define a simple four-letter word? I am in awe, and rightfully so.

Yet I wonder if Wittgenstein ever went into a paint shop? Of course, that is not to question the great man, because he surely has an answer. But I think it necessary to show the reader something they already are well acquainted with. There is a prodigious amount of colours, commensurate to the different wavelengths that exist, and only so many words to describe them.

Red, pink, reddish-pink, pinkish-red, rouge, hot pink– as one can tell, despite the wide range of spectrum between these colours, will soon not last. The number of colours will be greater than the number of words used to describe them. That is not to say those colours do not exist though, but rather there seems to be an inability to define them. So we are the mercy of our words.

And when I said I loved you, I must have been at your mercy. I wondered how you would react, when I had disarmed my olive branch, this dove in front of you, now empty-handed. This vulnerability made me squint and supine, making me wait for the killing blow. What came was a kiss, and the most striking following was, I couldn’t say a word.  Speechless could describe that… maybe.

When we try to describe the ineffable, we most likely will get frustrated. In a way this is to my advantage for if I were to tell you everything about my partner, describing them head to toe, you might fall in love with them too. Yet if I cannot describe love, even to my significant other, how can I explain the joys I am feeling to you?

I could refer to Dante’s canzones about Beatrice, or perhaps to Einstein’s famous quotes about the matter, but we would be left sitting around, wondering what they meant. Therefore although I cannot describe to you this wonderful and staggering topic, I hope you will remember this poorly written article. If you do, maybe one day you will be walking down the road, and suddenly observe two people, one with dirty blond hair and the other sporting the darkest brown you’d think it was black, laughing just slightly too loud. You might hear this elated laughter, become curious, and then note they are holding hands, smiling with off-white teeth, and their legs are swinging oddly coloured pants in unison. They are side by side, concerned with only where the next foot will take them. They’ll look up at you, nod knowingly, and then be off their way, leaving you to wonder like in a paint store: those two were lief.

Perhaps better put - those two were in love.

 

Tyler Welch

The Silhouette

 

Do you remember the days when letting out even the slightest hint of a crush would lead to a merciless interrogation by your classmates and peers?

Do you recall those days, maybe in grade five or six, when your life would become miserable as your friends chanted, “Phillip and Suzy sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G”? (This, of course, would only have been the case if both your name, and the name of your prospective suitor, was either Phillip or Suzy, but you get the point.) My fear is that many of us, despite our advancements in age, education and life experience, have failed to grow out of this immature attitude toward the prospect of romantic involvement.

Even in university, a place where we are supposed to grow up, find ourselves and be moulded into responsible adults, the knowledge that one of your friends “likes” another will cause their words to be examined, their actions scrutinized and both involved to become a popular topic of discussion. The problem here isn’t the discussion, it’s the manner of that discussion. No matter what, other people’s love lives will always be an interesting topic of conversation.

However, it’s not as though we gather with our friends and maturely evaluate the outlook of potential romantic intertwinements. Rather, we spend much of the time pointing out flaws in either (or both) partners, laughing at our friend’s newfound joy and excitement, or making crude jokes about their possible physical interactions.

I believe part of the problem is that our friends and peers have no time for transition. Their minds have to jump from knowing you as single, when school and friends are your top priority, to knowing you as pursing, or in, a romantic relationship, with very other priorities.

For this reason, I’ve created a term to bridge the gap and to describe the confusing intermediary period between singleness and romantic attachment: PRI (potential romantic interest), which can be used to describe someone, without embarrassment, as a person you have met and could possibly see a romantic future with, but by no means are you losing sleep over the prospect.

A person can acceptably have more than one PRI at a time. This is a great middle stage in romantic development. A person can become a PRI early or late, when you first meet or years into a friendship. Once a person is placed on the PRI list, he or she can be further examined and observed, and effort can be made to get to know them better.

From this stage, one can be dropped from the list, remain a PRI or move up to a full-fledged RI (romantic interest). A prospect can remain on the list for decades, or be dropped/moved up in a matter of hours.

The beauty of the PRI is that it’s nothing to be embarrassed of. No one can respectfully tease another person for having a PRI – we all have them. There is not one person who doesn’t have at least somebody they could possibly see romantic interest in. Now, when a bro turns to another bro and says, “Hey bro, what’s the deal with that girl?” it’s fine to hear a reply saying, “Oh, she’s a PRI”.

Romance takes time; it takes persistence and patience. Simply showing interest in getting to know someone further should no longer be reason for ridicule. Give your friends some time to transition.

Use the term ‘PRI’ and the romantic waters will be easier to navigate.