Love?...or the lack there of?
Created | Updated Jan 28, 2002
What is love? It has been contemplated by every philosopher, poet, lover, mother, and other. But has yet to be rationally
explained. Is love the willingness to die for another? Or to put another's existance above that of your own? I certainly hope not.
Because I would die to save any child from death, does this mean I love them? Could love be that two souls intertwine until they
are indistinguishable from one another? As romantic as that sounds, it can never happen, it is beyond our relm. Is it simply a
strong likeness towards another person? That sounds boring, does it not? How could it be, how could that be love?...It's not. That
likeness is confusion, that's all. But I truly believe that love exists, in all it's indescribable complicity and ideals. How do I know this? I don't.... call it blind faith, call it what you will. However I have fallen victim to the onset of confusion too many times to continue to believe that like is love, I have been under the misguided impression that "love is a fondness" 6 times. By the fifth or sixth woman I just assumed it would end and I'd again live to say the empty words "I love you" to another barrage of women, seducing them with the lie, that I actually returned there desperation for us to be together. "I have broken too many hearts along the way, including my own, to continue.". Continue on my emotional stampede that is. So I tried, so, so hard to cut myself off from women. As not to accidently drop them and shatter their fragile hearts. I tried, and I cried, and I lied, to try to keep them away. And to convince the
rest of the world that perhaps I wasn't worthy of this emotion. Always given, but never recieved, always prayed for, but never
returned. I hid in the shadows of my mind. Until I met her, I thought she'd just be another victim under my heel. So I kept her at bay for a month. But then I drowned in her beauty, and imperfection, and peace, and.... She made me fall, hard. I was so in love, and I
felt the misery, and levity, and indecypherability of my predicament. Then I realized "this must be love"..."It has to be"..."what else
could it be"???
I was with this girl for 8 months, enthrolled in her love. She said she loved me, and I could feel it in her eyes, not just in her voice. She left me... This was a first for me. I had always been the heartbreaker, the one to leave at the drop of a hat. In fact on her way out the door she told me that I wasn't in love, that it wasn't real what I felt, but what she felt was. Blinded by my anger and dismay I started to believe what she saw and that which I couldn't comprehend seeing for myself. So I believed her. After a little while my blindfold fell to the floor and I realized that if anything was true, it was that she was wrong about me. I was, I am in love with her. But she hasn't come back to me. My depression leads me to one question: "Was it love?...or the lack there of?"
explained. Is love the willingness to die for another? Or to put another's existance above that of your own? I certainly hope not.
Because I would die to save any child from death, does this mean I love them? Could love be that two souls intertwine until they
are indistinguishable from one another? As romantic as that sounds, it can never happen, it is beyond our relm. Is it simply a
strong likeness towards another person? That sounds boring, does it not? How could it be, how could that be love?...It's not. That
likeness is confusion, that's all. But I truly believe that love exists, in all it's indescribable complicity and ideals. How do I know this? I don't.... call it blind faith, call it what you will. However I have fallen victim to the onset of confusion too many times to continue to believe that like is love, I have been under the misguided impression that "love is a fondness" 6 times. By the fifth or sixth woman I just assumed it would end and I'd again live to say the empty words "I love you" to another barrage of women, seducing them with the lie, that I actually returned there desperation for us to be together. "I have broken too many hearts along the way, including my own, to continue.". Continue on my emotional stampede that is. So I tried, so, so hard to cut myself off from women. As not to accidently drop them and shatter their fragile hearts. I tried, and I cried, and I lied, to try to keep them away. And to convince the
rest of the world that perhaps I wasn't worthy of this emotion. Always given, but never recieved, always prayed for, but never
returned. I hid in the shadows of my mind. Until I met her, I thought she'd just be another victim under my heel. So I kept her at bay for a month. But then I drowned in her beauty, and imperfection, and peace, and.... She made me fall, hard. I was so in love, and I
felt the misery, and levity, and indecypherability of my predicament. Then I realized "this must be love"..."It has to be"..."what else
could it be"???
I was with this girl for 8 months, enthrolled in her love. She said she loved me, and I could feel it in her eyes, not just in her voice. She left me... This was a first for me. I had always been the heartbreaker, the one to leave at the drop of a hat. In fact on her way out the door she told me that I wasn't in love, that it wasn't real what I felt, but what she felt was. Blinded by my anger and dismay I started to believe what she saw and that which I couldn't comprehend seeing for myself. So I believed her. After a little while my blindfold fell to the floor and I realized that if anything was true, it was that she was wrong about me. I was, I am in love with her. But she hasn't come back to me. My depression leads me to one question: "Was it love?...or the lack there of?"
