[Disclaimer: I would reiterate once again my repulsion about ‘choreographed’ celebrations with no clear basis and coherent significance. It would be better to recall my contempt of the Christmas celebration, and so Valentines Day cannot be an exception to that. My title only serves to situate my thoughts for this day. It should not, in any way, be mistaken that I participate in the celebrations. Call me a killjoy, dear reader, but I have come to learn to defend my beliefs.]
It has been months seen I started thinking about again the last few adventures of mine in the almost unbelievably tumultuous and unpredictable realm of love. Yeah, it sounds awkward even for me, having no more toned-down term to describe. But what should I do? Disown my past and force myself into ‘selective amnesia’ (as an organic chemistry classmate termed it)? Nah. That would a loser act. Relations will always be related to love. Period.
Perhaps in almost ninety nine percent of all those connections, things started to go bad for one sole reason, me. But it would be an injustice and a breach to the unspoken agreement of privacy to divulge the details of those connections. That is one thing that I should carry on until my death, and that is not to give out unsolicited information. And for an equal number of percentage, I have gone to the regret periods, even with my hard face and rough manners in terms of relations. I don’t need any extensive look back to say that I have always been carefree, thinking that the other party shall take care of the technicalities of the relations. I have always thought like a child, always putting too much confidence in the strength of fundamentally vulnerable relations.
I am not saying that it is not possible to have truly romantic relations. It’s just that in actuality, and especially in my case where an open show of emotions was not really encouraged, it is pretty hard. Of course, it has been my secret hope before, and strived in many ways to achieve it. Adventurousness overrode me in many cases.
As I stand today, I realize relations go beyond just mere dating, going to many places, eating together, calling each other intimate names, among other. They even go beyond what they say that a god is necessary, to be the center of the relations, for this is an embellishment only, a mere excuse of the religiously devout.
Love for me must be experienced and understood in human terms. And I mean in human proportions. If we blow up the concept of love into abstractions or cloak it in metaphors, we’ll never be able to grasp it at all.
I have to agree that it has to be a two-way relation, both of whom must give and take, equally. Only the intensity makes the difference. A constellation of words (like what I used to do when I wrote those almost novelistic letters) is not needed; for even the simplest of look and holding of hands can communicate our deepest feelings for each other. Much of what transpires in connection with love needs not any mortal expressions. Love is not just a mere thought, an abstraction. If I would be allowed to excuse the concept of a soul, I would say that love is a spirit, inherent, permeating the very essence of us all.
In the end, these are but simple and very personal views. It would be a long way for me in order to fully philosophize about it (if it’s even possible). The good thing about this day is that all lovers are able to recheck on themselves and re-internalize the meaning of love for them. Dear reader, you don’t have to have a partner, or a significant other to muse about love. Singleness is not impairment, but a free chance to look deeper into love.
Am I in love? Suffice it to say that my understanding of love grows more and more as I continue to think and get myself to share and experience it even in small ways.