Once more.. nonsense about LOVE

The endless discussions about love…

It’s amazing how the conversation never dries up when the topic is about this elusive emotion. Love has left world leaders helpless and violent. It inspired poets when it was generous to surround them and when it was unattainable. It caught us off guard when we were teens, and made us act like teens when we were supposed to be older and wiser. People have exhausted love, and didn’t get exhausted themselves.

Some think they have experienced it, not realizing they were deluded -but is a bliss as they say. Others were so lucky as to taste its sacred fruit but wasted the opportunity to have an all-out life changing experience because they wouldn’t just take the risk. And there are those who were born on a quest to find love but sadly died deprived.

It’s always about love. Why? Because love is our sense of security, it’s our reassurance that we exist in a purer form other than the carnal base. It brings the best in us; the hope that there might be an angel within who can be a guardian of someone else out there. It’s the urge to take care of someone and be taken care of too. But in that case, why a mother’s love to her son and daughter does not suffice?

We fall in love.. it seems so genuine, so true, so relentless, so adamant and willful to stand the test of time. We look into someone’s eyes, our heart skips a beat; this must be true love, the one that is here to stay, the one that will impart meaning to the picture, the one that will fill up the emptiness in the middle of your chest, so you no longer feel impaired or incomplete.

But time drags love…and that which has earlier been so true, becomes so fake, that which was an unfathomable existence, ceases to exist. We refuse to believe love can evaporate, may be we mistook a mirage for a sweet mystifying lake. We blame ourselves, we must have mixed up infatuation with love. Our minds with the cultural and moral pressure must have coated sheer desire with a sublime ethereal view to justify the feeling and create a guilt-free experience.

As we grow older, we become more suspicious of relations; “is this true love?” the tagline of human tragedy. Here are some of the expected answers: If it’s true love, it will hit you right in the face; instantly you should be captivated. Noooo, what about physical attraction, doesn’t it happen immediately too? Or does it just grow on you? Well, it doesn’t make any sense, the non-genuine fleeting emotion (Desire) must be the one that kicks in first. So love must be something that is cultured and nurtured by time. Oh! But here comes another smarty saying; no, love doesn’t grow on you, addictive habits do, though. Is love just a habit?

Do you realize this could be the most enormous illusion  we have woven around ourselves over centuries of self-deception? It could just be a wrongly translated manifestation of our need to soften an obscure background of a very dark reality, the same way a spoon of white sugar lightens up your deeply black coffee, enough to make the bitterness swallow-able.

love-wallpaper-background (1)Is there something called true love? Does it really happen? If it does, should it last forever, or can love actually wither and die? Does it, like some of the optimists believe, grow and mature changing in nature along the way, but never disperses or disappears?Well that could shed some light over the whereabouts of the blood rush, the anxiety, the missing, the pain, the longing, the fear, and all the other mix of early-relationship emotions later on and after few years of togetherness. Has love matured? Or are we being resistant to the truth reinforcing itself: Love is a mortal and a transient element of this life or even worse a complete illusion.

If we go with the optimists view, does that mean love has mutated into habit? Why not?! Your lover becomes a given of daily life, you are settled, and you are guaranteed a victory now kept on the shelf, minute after minute, your eyes lose it’s ability to notice it.

But then again, this entails that love is just a synonym to the excitement which accompanies all the first-times. The fear of losing, the mystery of getting to discover someone new, and the urge to feel special, endorsed, and acknowledged.

That’s another problem. Getting noticed, endorsed and acknowledged is a need that can’t be satisfied. It’s something innate within human nature. does that mean we can love more than once? If yes, do we have to stop loving someone to love someone else, or can we love simultaneously more than one person?

I can see you wrinkling your nose in disgust, wait a minute! Are you sure it is your heart that is talking now or is it your pride? Is emotional exclusivity (which is an invention of modern society by the way) conditioned by the essence and nature of love or by our competitive uncompromising pride?!

So, what is love people? All of you out there, anyone knows?

In the middle of the darkest hours, when it usually seems so bleak and challenging, I still couldn’t 100 percent give up on the concept of love. I can’t deny its existence, because as an abstract emotion it attests itself in the world around me, subtly but confidently. And because on a personal level, I am still held prisoner by its mysterious powers.  It’s true I don’t have a definition for it too, and I struggle as anyone else with my moments of despair, frustrations and lack of faith, but…

I can affiliate Love’s existence with freedom of choice. Love is that very conscious decision you take every night, with full awareness and complete free will, to sleep and wake up beside that special someone every night and every morning, even when the tough gets going and the going gets tough.

That’s what love is all about; the minute you find yourself going to that same bed because of your responsibilities, commitment and duties, it’s no longer love for me.

As for the question about the exclusivity of love, I will leave it up to you to ponder over.

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One Response to Once more.. nonsense about LOVE

  1. What is love? Whenever she caught even a cold, I acted like a lunatic. I went running to the chemist shop and she used to laugh at me. I couldn’t dare to live without her. I still miss her.

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