Looking through my poetry journal today, I came across a piece of paper neatly folded in half. My curiosity got the better of me and I decided to investigate the contents of this mysterious folded piece of paper. Inside, I found one of my usual ramblings dated back to October 8, 2008. It addresses the timeless, ageless topic of love.
Is it possible for someone to just love one person for their entire lives? Is it possible to be content waking up to the same person every single day? Is it possible to find the same excitement 50 years later? Human nature is such to experience as many things as possible. Our nature is to try and derive maximum pleasure from a variety of sources. Whether it be from books, movies, music, money, etc. How is it possible then, that some people can find everything in one single person? Especially when there are billions of people on this Earth. Does that not mean there are many people suited for us given the right opportunity? Each one better suited for us than the one before?
What is love exactly? Why does it alter people completely? How does it make people, who live off carnal pleasure, succumb to the banality of everyday life with one single person? I always puzzle over what love is exactly. That is the problem I think. Love isn’t one single anything. Then I have to ask again, what is it then? When someone says ” I love him”, I ask “What do you love?” I get answers like, his smile, his eyes, his kind heart, the way he treats me, etc. I think to myself that it sounds legitimate enough, but what if he had an ugly smile, glasses, and was often impulsive and stern…would she still love him?? I think what people forget is that love is not about finding the perfect person, it is about seeing an imperfect person perfectly.
What a noble thought. I wonder if anyone really truly falls in Love now and days. Lust and infatuation I see everyday, but love, I’m more skeptical of. If people really loved each other, the divorce rate would not be 50% and the rate of adultery would not be as high as well. I think people like the concept of love. I think they like it more than the actual feeling of love. Love is not fun and it is not easy. It is painful and trying. Like Pat Benatar said “Love is a battlefield.” One must have endless patience and the capacity to endure anything; more than you thought your body could handle.
Love is having a flaming passion and an undying and everlasting hunger for the one you love. Love is facing death with a smile to save your beloved. Love is giving up your entire world to see a glimmer of a smile on the face of the one you love. Love is the choice you make to stand by someone’s side when all reason is screaming at you to walk away.
Love is passion; it is the blending of two people into one. Love, was, is, and always will be God’s greatest gift and most painful curse. Love is the ability to abandon all reason and walk into the unknown perfectly content and with no fear. Love is the opportunity to stop merely living, and to finally, truly, be alive. Love is the flame in a candle, the soul in one’s body, the very essence of our existence.
That is love.