In America, we name every joint, expression, component, every segment of our lives. At times the words escape us, but one exists to describe every inch of our bodies and minds. So what is to be said for the relationship without a title?
When we denounce labels and proclaim our interactions with others defy nomenclature, are we simply denying the true name of that relationship?
Destiny’s Child in, “Is She the Reason,” once observed, “I was cool with no commitment; wait– let me take that back– it was you, so I was with it!” Did this persona simply fool herself into believing that she was more than a J.O? Or how about “in a relationship without a title”? If it’s a relationship? Why not give it a title? If there are restrictions, if jealousy exists, if there are no other candidates, why not call it a relationship?
The power lies in the namer, and generally, the definer is the man. Brian Fiel’s play, “Translations”, examines the power of a name, not so much a name, but who christens an area. In the process of naming, you acknowledge that an area, being, or feeling exists. This entity belongs to or is inhabited by something or someone else. So the one who establishes the object’s title, controls it.
Why, in this instance do we, usually women, relinquish the coveted name, wife, for the undefined? Sure, exceptional circumstances exist, but mostly, the lack of a title signifies a lack of commitment, a premeditated murder of an entity that never was.
Then again, maybe our fears deter defining terms of engagement. Verbophobia describes an intense fear of words. Are we all verbophobics in Noah’s 21st century arch refusing to acknowledge the obvious: that we are a pair, and tend to congregate by twos? Or, is the lack of a name evidence that one individual fabricated an entire relationship out of shards of nothingness and convenience? Better still, do we use each other to assuage the stinging loneliness that cuddles us at night and leave the inevitable unmarked as a rite for smooth passage into relationship limbo…so we wont stumble across it in the future and mourn?
