Posted: Tuesday, February 14, 2012 5:46:17 AM
Love is a difficult thing to quantify or define. Who am I to say what love is? I do not have access to the collective consciousness of all humanity, nor the wisdom associated with years. Who am I to say that what someone feels is insincere, even if it is based on lies? Is love based in dishonesty even a kind of love at all? I do not yet have the answers to these questions, nor do I believe I ever will. Depth of rumination of this sort is not within the capabilities of humans alone.
What's more, I am not the best person to speak of love. Growing up, the words and actions of those around me regarding love were in contradiction. Does love necessitate lies, assault or total submission in order to function? Or, rather, is love the one being used; used to manipulate the emotions and actions of those who believe love means blindness?
All too often, perceived love is founded in lies. Our own neediness drives us into unadvisable and unsafe relationships that end in distrust, pain, and the realization that all we felt was a lie, conceived to draw us in. In the beginning, there is often no indication of anything amiss, nothing to foreshadow the misery to come. But then things go wrong; a word, a swing, a growing sense of doubt. Suddenly, it is too late to get out of this horrid place. Too often, love ends in this brand of despair, but there are other, more subtle kinds. Kinds that are much harder to perceive.
"I love you" is often a phrase we utter without meaning, without the weight and gravity of its full significance. Its use is so frequent that we often forget its capabilities to make the heart soar, weightless and free of care, erasing ones inhibitions and doubts. This manifestation of love, in its genuine and pure state, is what we search for, regardless of our prior experience. We search for a place in which we can feel safe, and can trust those around us. These places are few and far between, and the pursuit of them can lead down paths best not taken.
Many find themselves in places they swore they would never go, in depths of depravity and despair they had never thought possible, as a result of such searching. While I know little of love, I know all too well the desperation and anguish result from fruitless searching. But the wonderful irony underlying all of this is that, while twisted ideas of love may have led you there, love which is pure, genuine, and untainted has the power to transcend all prior faults, transgressions, and circumstances. It is for this reason that love has been given so much weight, so much power over our actions, as it very well should have. But something of such magnitude and gravity requires careful handling, lest it should go astray.