Remark with five a note of passion (4)
Tears and fears and feeling proudTo say I love you right out loud (Joni Mitchell)
There are no passages in the New Testament dealing with love between a man and a woman. (This is very sad and explains much about the modern Church's attitude to sex, marriage and teenagers)
I am in love. With the man. And he loves me. Or so he says. Dammit, I should try not to do that deprecation thing.
I thought I loved him before. Like an idiot I told him and was rewarded with an embarrassed silence and the desperate hope I might wake up from the bad dream. Perhaps in someone else's bed. Anything but the embarrassment and the silence.
At that time I wasn't in love. I was infatuated and frankly over-awed by the fact someone still wanted to go out with me nearly 2 months down the line.
It's difficult to admit to being wrong, especially when you confess to being in love
(example scenario 1: explaining to best friend why you are dating the 'bastard ex' again)
(example scenario 2: getting married and later regretting it)
(example scenario 3: all of the bad poetry written in adolescence)
I realised that I couldn't genuinely be in love with him if he didn't love me. It is difficult, if not impossible, to love in a vaccuum: over time it becomes obsession or desperation, or some other perversion of love, which feeds on its own excrement. Nice.
So now that he's confessed to loving me, I can explore my own feelings more freely. Reciprocate the words. Then sit back and consider their meaning. Try to understand if I am in love, or in love with saying the words.
To pursue a glib saying, Love is...
...exquisite joy in their company
...crippling fear that they will be lost
...endless thoughts of them in daydreams
...smiling despite their absence
...worrying in their presence
...extreme of emotion
...impossible to define.
Of course, I can't just enjoy the fact that I am loved and love back, I have to seek the bigger picture. One day this will end in heartbreak. Whether it’s next week after a disastrous row, or 70 years in the future, in a silk-lined coffin.
Oh dear. That’s not a happy thought. Can I really be in love if I can be that pessimistic about it? Shouldn’t I be listening to Lionel Richie and walking with a permanent smile on my face?
On a better note, the sex is better than ever. Is this because it has the seal of Love approval? Fuck knows.
There are no passages in the New Testament dealing with love between a man and a woman. (This is very sad and explains much about the modern Church's attitude to sex, marriage and teenagers)
I am in love. With the man. And he loves me. Or so he says. Dammit, I should try not to do that deprecation thing.
I thought I loved him before. Like an idiot I told him and was rewarded with an embarrassed silence and the desperate hope I might wake up from the bad dream. Perhaps in someone else's bed. Anything but the embarrassment and the silence.
At that time I wasn't in love. I was infatuated and frankly over-awed by the fact someone still wanted to go out with me nearly 2 months down the line.
It's difficult to admit to being wrong, especially when you confess to being in love
(example scenario 1: explaining to best friend why you are dating the 'bastard ex' again)
(example scenario 2: getting married and later regretting it)
(example scenario 3: all of the bad poetry written in adolescence)
I realised that I couldn't genuinely be in love with him if he didn't love me. It is difficult, if not impossible, to love in a vaccuum: over time it becomes obsession or desperation, or some other perversion of love, which feeds on its own excrement. Nice.
So now that he's confessed to loving me, I can explore my own feelings more freely. Reciprocate the words. Then sit back and consider their meaning. Try to understand if I am in love, or in love with saying the words.
To pursue a glib saying, Love is...
...exquisite joy in their company
...crippling fear that they will be lost
...endless thoughts of them in daydreams
...smiling despite their absence
...worrying in their presence
...extreme of emotion
...impossible to define.
Of course, I can't just enjoy the fact that I am loved and love back, I have to seek the bigger picture. One day this will end in heartbreak. Whether it’s next week after a disastrous row, or 70 years in the future, in a silk-lined coffin.
Oh dear. That’s not a happy thought. Can I really be in love if I can be that pessimistic about it? Shouldn’t I be listening to Lionel Richie and walking with a permanent smile on my face?
On a better note, the sex is better than ever. Is this because it has the seal of Love approval? Fuck knows.
posted by from sychar to eternity at 19:48
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