Saturday, April 21, 2012

Lemur Oscar Victor Echo

I've addressed this topic before, but it seems to be constantly evolvinig, at least within me it is. The past several months I've been wondering what makes my current relationship so different, so different from any other experience I've had. And today, my close friend told me he was tired of love. Now, I think he's talking about the love that has yet to be defined by another term, but I don't think it's love. I don't know what it is.

When I was young, love was simple. I didn't love boys, unless they were cousins or brothers; I adored my voice teacher, and I couldn't imagine living without my mother. Love was selfish then. I loved my mom because she stood up for me and offered safety from my tyrant father. I loved my cousins because they kept me company. My sisters were loved on a day-to-day basis, whoever was nicer I loved. But that was a superficial thing, and I hesitate to call that true love.

My friend and I have shared a rough experience with relationships. That may be why love seems to be so tiring. If he's talking about what I think he's talking about, it's the emotion that overwhelmes and consumes your everyday life. And he's right. That kind of 'love' is really exhausting. It can be good! But it also causes you to focus a lot more on one part of your life than you really should. It also involves you behaiving and thinking a certain way all the time, and it's definitely confining. Love should feel freeing, in my opinion.

I'm not sure that's really love either. I think the problem with defining love is that it can't really be explained. It's like faith. You have your own experience with it that no one else can, and if you try and share it, it becomes tainted. But you can look into the eyes of someone else who has matured in their own experience, and know that they understand. That's what makes it so mysterious and great.

I've tried the consumer version of love. It wasn't for me. For a while I rejected the whole idea of love. That's the point my friend is coming to, and while I hurt for him, I'm also a little excited because I have this vision of his revelation in the near future. He's highly intelligent and in tune to himself, so I know he'll pick up on it very quickly, like I did, once he's ready. He's in the last stages of being bound to his coccoon (stupid analogy, I know, but it's the image I have) and the butterfly is emerging. And I know it will be a grand, beautiful thing that he will experience.

For me, that moment came over the course of about a week. I had found someone that I liked, found very attractive, was compatible with in nearly every way, and was spending time with and getting to know better. And in a very short time span, I realized that this truly was a man I could gladly trust the rest of my life with. The big realization came for me when I saw myself having a family with him. Never have I ever actually envisioned making such a big commitment to any man. This trust I have enables me to love him, without obsessing. It's got some of the same features as what I've experienced before, but in cinimax. I love to be with him, but while I don't think about him the whole time I'm away, I get excited when it's time to go home. We talk about our future, and I don't see life as being trapped in a comitment, but rather I'm truly only interested in being with him. This mature love is growing by the day, but it's not taking over my emotions.

Lemur Oscar Victor Echo. A love that promises to last.

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