I have pondered upon the subject of love before, however besides in my poetry it was almost always done from the outside looking in. I am going to attempt to add more thought to this after being in and still maintaining a healthy committed relationship.
Put plainly, this ain’t easy. From the time we are toddlers, the vast majority of us crave independence. We want to be individuals; to fit in to a certain degree but yet be enough of a unique person that we don’t lose our identity.
Then along comes this crazy little thing called love. The early days are great...lust abounds and passion burns brightly, faults are overlooked and ignored, because they don’t matter. Until they do.
The roaring fire of unbridled passion wanes and unless you plan on throwing some fuel that only makes that fire burn hotter but more quickly, consuming the fuel, it calms into a comforting fire and on occasion a bank of embers that requires kindling to renew. A keeper of the flame, an ember carrier was a sacred and solemn duty because it meant life. Love must have its embers kept and nurtured to ensure that a healthy love life will carry on when the rest of life makes tending a normal hearth difficult.
I have learned that all the relationships we experience prepare us to find the absolutes and the tolerances; those things in another that must exist or cannot ever be allowed to be given a chance to flourish and those things that might not be that which we particularly like, but because of love we will overlook, abide and even come to accept if somewhat grudgingly because they are unique characteristics of a life and soul which we find complements our own life and soul.
We find that promises to never hurt are empty unless we mean that we will never inflict hurt with intentional purpose (at least not without consent). To love with all ones heart and mind and soul means to be open and vulnerable. And since we have been unable to come up with a way to communicate with one another without possibility of misinterpretation, the potential for hurt exists. Did I intentionally misstate what I wanted to say, did they intentionally mishear me? Doubtful. Are my personal definitions of conceptual words different than the personal definitions of those concepts that my other holds? Possible, more likely probable. Dictionary definitions only carry us so far when helping us proscribe the parameters of an abstract concept. What emotions and experiences do we we bring to the table that hinder us from not bringing bias and prejudgement into a serious conversation about feelings and actions and all the things that inflict some form of hurt and turmoil.
Yeah, it is work. But without work, that which is accomplished isn’t truly achieved nor is it savored as much, cherished, held in the high regard and esteem that make it all worthwhile in the end.
I am so happy to have found someone to share this thing called life with, the grand and spectacular, the good and satisfying, the sad and shitacular. To support and to uplift, to protect and defend. Her smiles are mine; her tears are mine.
That is what I know about love.
