"Love means never having to say you're sorry..."
- Ali MacGraw in Love Story
Have you ever heard a more sublime line of shit in your life? Ah L'Amore - such a slippery little turd you've become.
Of course we have the bastardized version of love we find on TV, in Hallmark aisles, in romance novels.
On TV love is magic. It's a burning sensation you get way down deep...I think, or is that the clap? In any case it's airbrushed young lovers saying all the right things, who were meant for each other, who in a flurry of perfect locations are quickly well suited for each other and know if by the end of the time-slot. Crescendo of violin music, cue long over-due hugs and kisses - pan out to whole view of central park - roll credits. That's love my friends.
From Hallmark we learn love is a paper item that can be folded neatly in to another folded and glued piece of paper. It's poems written by people you've never heard of - and watercolor pictures that look to be tear stained. Hallmark is not for "when you care to send the very best" - it's for life situations that are too awkward to handle with your own words and feelings so I shall rely on the sentiments that can be purchased over the counter in mass quantities. (I think that could be their new slogan).
Bleh.
While younger and stupider - I was groomed into believing this is how it is. Overwhelming sensations of "chemistry", "that spark", and many other cliches. I wanted the cards, the candy, the flowers, the whispered sweet nothings. And 19 I got them. This was is it - this was love. He was my soul-mate.
But my soul-mate was off to California, never to be seen again. I never did get my violin music in the park ending.
Since then I have met a lot more soul-mates. Apparently I get along well with LOTS of people.
Love is not saying the perfect thing at the perfect time.
Love is sitting with open ears by the one you love while they painfully stumble through what they just don't know how to convey.
Love is not the romantic dinner he spent $50 dollars on.
Love is when you drop a meatball on your shirt so the one you are with doesn't feel bad for having just done the same.
Love is not seeing your sweet someone in their finest hour - filling you with pride.
Love is seeing your sweet someone at their lowest point sobbing in your bathtub, and only wanting to wipe out that pain and hurt in their lives.
On the contrary - love means having to say you are sorry an awful lot, and relishing the unique and beautiful imperfections of those we bestow our love upon.
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