To love the living crap out of you

Ah, love; such a fickle word.

Funny how time has distorted the very concept which numerous enamored authors, bewitched balladeers and smitten songwriters have tried to define but alas, no one has given an exact definition to the very thing that intertwines bodies and souls together. I find it a bit funny how we all crave for the very thing that no man or woman can define or truly conceptualized, considering we are all rational beings by nature. Due to our lack of ability to define love, we merely interpret it. As early as the age when our hormones start kicking in, we create our own idea of it through cognitive monologue; we take into consideration how choosing a partner will benefit us, both physically and emotionally, not to mention the materiality often involved in some “relationships”. We ponder on the qualities that our ideal partner should possess before we choose him or her. This kind of thinking has distorted the very emotion we have longed to attain when we were our young, foolish selves; we all think that our partner can be encapsulated in a list of qualities or an enumeration of how beneficial they will be to us.

We’re all wrong, dead wrong.

This kind of mindset has led to numerous broken marriages and bleeding, aching hearts. When we find that this person, whom we thought was our “ideal” partner, is not exactly the man or woman we have “fallen in love with” when we first met them, we tend to leave them. If not leave them, we cheat on them. These pangs of heartache resonates unmet expectations and a via dolorosa to emotional crucifixion, some of whom never get down from that cross. That’s why we should rid ourselves of this selfish notion and create a new one.

In my own unsolicited opinion, love is not something to be sought. Love is something we create. I know what I just said sounds condescending and a bit pretentious but please do hear me out, and take out of the equation my seemingly ‘holier-than-thou’ attitude while writing this juxtaposition.

I think love in its purest form is in the actual, not the ideal.

What do I mean by this? Friends, Romans, fellow closeted hopeless romantics, lend me your eyes.

Love is not something we seek but rather, it is something we create with our own hands. The reality is, pure love cannot be found in the infancy of a romance; it can be found when the aforementioned romance starts getting wrinkles, gets cranky and temperamental, and gets really ugly, metaphorically-speaking, of course.

When you start seeing your partner become snooty or start being cranky, you don’t fight fire with fire; you should just understand them and patiently tell them that they shouldn’t act that way. When you see your partner start slipping, you don’t scold them; you guide them and help them through their trials and tribulations. When you see your partner gradually change physically or emotionally over the course of time, you don’t expect them to change for you; you stay and accept them, or when the need arises, you help them change in a tender, unselfish manner for their own sake, not yours. When you see them at their lowest point, you don’t abandon them or find solace in the arms of another; you pick them up, patch them up and put them back on their feet.

We should stop perpetuating the selfish kind of love and start creating love because it lies in our own hands. It is up to us know what love really is (ugh, that sounded a bit too cheesy) and accept it because it is inevitable that we ourselves will change. Now I ask you, would you want your partner to stay when things get ugly on your end? I didn’t think so.

Now go find that person and love the living crap out of them.

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