As a sentient being, I like the idea of love. I like the thought of it. I like the notion that something irrational comes and overwhelms the senses. I love seeing people in love. I like the way they look in love. Their whole essence changes. Their aura glows. It's inspiring how both vast and finite the Universe seems when someone is in love. It's something I've always been a fan of. I love love. I do. But it's not without its troubles, and I'll be the first to admit that.
I love. It's sort of my thing. I love the people in my life. I have been lucky. I know that and I am grateful. I've fallen into the good graces of a lot of people who accept my love and appreciate it. But, then there are those others...you know the kind. They are the ones who claim they don't believe that (or they don't know if...) love is real. They won't give love or receive the love they're offered. They pretend they don't want love. Those are the hardest people to know. But those people are just falling victim to their nature. They're trying to be a certain way and look a certain way and seem a certain way, when really they're just scared to admit that loving and being loved is scary. The scariest. There's no control. Nothing is guaranteed. Nothing is written in stone. Poor them, because there is no feeling more freeing, more liberating, more electrifying than looking at someone and knowing he/she is looking at you the same way, thinking the same thing.
Toward the other wnd of the spectrum, I've fallen victim to my nature a few times though, as well. I am a romantic of the hopeless variety, so it's something that happens. I catch myself confusing real love with something I created in my head based on some literary somethingorother or some grand fantasy I've spent too much time thinking and overthinking and building up.
I don't fall in love easily. In fact, falling in love has been quite possibly the most few-and-far-between of all the things I've done more than once. (I've been "in love" twice, although one day I may find that one or both of those haven't actually been love in the way I think I see it right now). It would be nice to think that I've felt that real, reciprocal love that makes the world go 'round, but who can really say for sure?
It's what I want, though. Everyone does, no matter how tough or together or "above it" they seem.
I don't have rules for love. If I did, I wouldn't necessarily suggest anyone take them as "advice," because not giving relationship advice is one rule I do have. As a matter of fact, I don't have many rules, but the ones I have are important enough to take this time to share:
1. Remember to have enough tolerance for two.
2. Politics and religion are topics best designated to appropriate forums.
3. Never give relationship advice (aka, Stay out of other people's bedrooms, literally and metaphorically)
4. Don't cross any line that shouldn't be crossed. Know and respect the boundaries you've made for you.
5. Think before you drink.
So, those are basically the rules I live by, because they're sort of all encompassing.
But everything doesn't fit in the neat little boxes we're made for them when it comes to life and people and they way we are.
(from Le Love)
I want to love, even though I don't always like the way I feel secondary to it. Love brings fear and doubt and insecurities. Yes, love is patient and kind but it can also be miserable and crazy and deafening. Still though, I am not afraid, because I am not afraid of anything.
So, that's it. It's what I'm thinking about right now.