Love is a four letter word and somehow, probably also the absolute hardest to define. What is it? How do you know when you love someone? How do you know when someone loves you? Can it be truly unconditional? If it isn't unconditional, is it really love? How can you say you love someone and not be together forever? Can you love someone in one way and someone else in another way? Is pragmatic love named correctly? Does the word "love" deserve to be associated with something that's pragmatic? And what about lust? Don't the two get confused?
Let's talk about it.
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Throughout the time I've been writing/blogging, I've gotten a lot of requests to discuss things like this. Love, relationships, breakup advice, thoughts on marriage, ideal future, etc. I love writing about things like these. That's right- love. How do I know?
Because I feel happiest when I'm here in my creation space- looking through journal entries and photo albums, writing draft after draft, editing for hours and then hitting the publish button on the corner of my screen. Genuinely my happiest. My most comfortable, most vulnerable to emotional spells, most... something. Something really powerful, strong and soul-feeding. Sometimes in the process, I get so angry I just break down. More than once I've been tempted to shut this down and never write again. But I also can't imagine living my life without it- that's how I know I actually love what I do. I love it when it's hard in the same way I love it when it works in my favor.
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I tell you that- and I give you that background because I feel that it's crucial for you to understand that to me, love is about more than something at its best or someone at theirs. Love is not everything going the way you want it to or hearing exactly what you want to hear. Love is about having some fucking substance. And being full, but also starving.
Full: your heart is so full that you're a little bit fearful of it beating out of your chest.
Starving: graciously seizing ANY and ALL opportunities, experiences, and anything that someone has to offer you. Both the best and the worst.
When you're starving, you stop being picky about what is put in front of you. So take that, and think about love. When you're in love, you stop being picky about what the person is wearing. You love them in sweatpants on the couch on a Sunday afternoon and you love them dressed up for a night on the town, too.
But this isn't because you love the way they look in sweatpants or the bold shade of lipstick or the Polo shirt they're sporting. This is because you love who the person is.
And if you don't love a person when they're not wearing whatever the hell they were wearing two weeks ago that made them look like they could conquer the world, you don't love them.
Say what you want. Do it. Argue that.
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Dear 21st Century,
I'm afraid that in your time, you've heard a few too many insincere "I love yous" because people throw those words around like they mean nothing.
I'm afraid that in the move from century 20 to yourself, the love and lust boxes got mislabeled. Things got thrown into each box haphazardly as if love and lust were the same thing- or even interchangeable. As if.
By the day we opened your door for the first time, we were already screwed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Because a lot of times now, we hear people tell us that they love us before they know our middle names and those people give up when things get hard. Or, for that matter, when you don't give them exactly what they want. Even if your reasoning is perfectly logical.
I've told you the story of the boy who told me he'd break up with me unless I went a week without wearing any makeup to high school, right?
Here's how that went:
That was that. The end of the conversation and the relationship.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay, you might think me telling you that story (for the second and possibly third time) is unnecessary or irrelevant- but the point I'm trying to make here is that things like this happen regularly in relationships nowadays.
People will say that they love you when really, all they love is the idea of having you. Not even you, particularly, but just having someone. People often feel that in order to be happy, they have to have someone to call theirs, and that's when it becomes clear just how much love and lust have really gotten mixed up.
Time after time, I've scrolled through my timelines/newsfeeds and discovered that someone I know has either broken up with someone or been broken up with.
How do I know? They don't come out and say it, ever. They'd never do that. That'd be too upfront and too honest. But they do say things like this, and these all are actual quotes from Twitter and Facebook in the last eight weeks I've been collecting ideas for a post like this.
Let's talk about it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Throughout the time I've been writing/blogging, I've gotten a lot of requests to discuss things like this. Love, relationships, breakup advice, thoughts on marriage, ideal future, etc. I love writing about things like these. That's right- love. How do I know?
Because I feel happiest when I'm here in my creation space- looking through journal entries and photo albums, writing draft after draft, editing for hours and then hitting the publish button on the corner of my screen. Genuinely my happiest. My most comfortable, most vulnerable to emotional spells, most... something. Something really powerful, strong and soul-feeding. Sometimes in the process, I get so angry I just break down. More than once I've been tempted to shut this down and never write again. But I also can't imagine living my life without it- that's how I know I actually love what I do. I love it when it's hard in the same way I love it when it works in my favor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I tell you that- and I give you that background because I feel that it's crucial for you to understand that to me, love is about more than something at its best or someone at theirs. Love is not everything going the way you want it to or hearing exactly what you want to hear. Love is about having some fucking substance. And being full, but also starving.
Full: your heart is so full that you're a little bit fearful of it beating out of your chest.
Starving: graciously seizing ANY and ALL opportunities, experiences, and anything that someone has to offer you. Both the best and the worst.
When you're starving, you stop being picky about what is put in front of you. So take that, and think about love. When you're in love, you stop being picky about what the person is wearing. You love them in sweatpants on the couch on a Sunday afternoon and you love them dressed up for a night on the town, too.
But this isn't because you love the way they look in sweatpants or the bold shade of lipstick or the Polo shirt they're sporting. This is because you love who the person is.
And if you don't love a person when they're not wearing whatever the hell they were wearing two weeks ago that made them look like they could conquer the world, you don't love them.
Say what you want. Do it. Argue that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear 21st Century,
I'm afraid that in your time, you've heard a few too many insincere "I love yous" because people throw those words around like they mean nothing.
I'm afraid that in the move from century 20 to yourself, the love and lust boxes got mislabeled. Things got thrown into each box haphazardly as if love and lust were the same thing- or even interchangeable. As if.
By the day we opened your door for the first time, we were already screwed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Because a lot of times now, we hear people tell us that they love us before they know our middle names and those people give up when things get hard. Or, for that matter, when you don't give them exactly what they want. Even if your reasoning is perfectly logical.
I've told you the story of the boy who told me he'd break up with me unless I went a week without wearing any makeup to high school, right?
Here's how that went:
"Babe, you're beautiful enough without that shit on your face," he said. "I love you regardless. Do this for me."
"No," I told him. "I can wear makeup if I want to."
"Then I'll break up with you," he said.
"That's fine," I fired back.
"Babe stop. I love you and you know it. Don't do this," he begged.
"That's the thing though," I cried. "You don't love me."
"You don't get to fucking tell me whether or not I love you," he yelled.
"But I do. I do when your love ends if I wear makeup to school even if it's just because I like to and it makes me feel confident."
That was that. The end of the conversation and the relationship.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay, you might think me telling you that story (for the second and possibly third time) is unnecessary or irrelevant- but the point I'm trying to make here is that things like this happen regularly in relationships nowadays.
People will say that they love you when really, all they love is the idea of having you. Not even you, particularly, but just having someone. People often feel that in order to be happy, they have to have someone to call theirs, and that's when it becomes clear just how much love and lust have really gotten mixed up.
Time after time, I've scrolled through my timelines/newsfeeds and discovered that someone I know has either broken up with someone or been broken up with.
How do I know? They don't come out and say it, ever. They'd never do that. That'd be too upfront and too honest. But they do say things like this, and these all are actual quotes from Twitter and Facebook in the last eight weeks I've been collecting ideas for a post like this.
"Just need someone who's actually down for me."
"Now accepting applications for a cute significant other."
"HMU I'm cute, sometimes funny, and single!"
"I need a hot girl to spoil and give neck kisses to."
"Like this status if you'd date me."
"Blue eyed boys are the only boys for me."
"Being single is so depressing lol."
These are the same people who will post pictures of half-naked couples making out/doing who-knows-what else and caption it with something like, "Just need someone to have this kind of fun with," or "If we can't spend nights like this, we can't date."
But love isn't supposed to just be about attractiveness or sex or someone's bank account. There is supposed to be substance.
But love isn't supposed to just be about attractiveness or sex or someone's bank account. There is supposed to be substance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So okay. Let's be real. (Explicit language warning)
I'm not here to tell you what's wrong with these things, so I won't. I won't waste my time or yours. You're supposed to read those words and your heart is supposed to break because you're supposed to understand that modern "love" is pretty fucked up.
You're supposed to read those things and think, "what the hell is happening?" and you're supposed to get upset when nobody can answer you because nobody has a fucking clue why this is happening.
Because let's face it, love is scary as fuck isn't it? The whole idea of genuinely being someone's best friend no matter what? There's risk in that, huh? Is that it? Doesn't that scare you?
You don't want to get too attached. Because hell, they could hurt you couldn't they? They could take your happiness away faster than they gave it to you in the first place. God, isn't that insane? You're afraid of loving people.
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But then there's lust, and lust isn't scary. There's no risk factor there right? You can lust for someone without the commitment. You can think they're the prettiest thing that exists but you don't have to hold them when they're crying or come pick them up when they've downed too many beers too fast? You can take their clothes off of them and love them and then leave their place the next morning like nothing ever happened, can't you?
You can think that their blue eyes hold all the answers to any question you could ever ask, but you never do ask. You don't care enough. That's the thing with lust. It's a spark and it dies out because you run out of things to burn. But you're afraid of love, right? So you're afraid of fire.
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Lust is the feeling. The desire. The wanting. The curiosity. The everything that makes you want more.
Love is a choice. You have a say in whether or not you love someone. You make the conscious decision to either be there for them 24/7 or not. You make the choice to love them when they triumph the same as when they tremble.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Lust is what makes you initially go for the person," one of you told me after I posed this question. "Lust brings intimacy. Lust is the spark. Love is the flame."
And that's the problem. So many are so willing to send sparks flying and so god damn fearful of the fire that love doesn't even stand a fucking chance.
But, in the words of another one of you, "Love has a tangible and moral purpose."
Maybe that's part of why love is so rare. Real love. You know, that lasts. It has purpose.
"Anyone can lust for someone," another one of you told me. "But not anyone can love."
And my heart is fuller than it has ever been, because you all have your hearts in the right place and good heads on your shoulders and I can not wait to watch you take on the world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You're probably wanting me to answer the questions I asked at the very beginning now, aren't you? I'm sorry. That was never the plan. I can't answer any of those. I wanted to make you wonder.
And I wanted to tell you a story. And I wanted to hear what you think too because this is something that doesn't get the attention that it should.
And I want you to really think before you tell someone you love them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm not here to tell you what's wrong with these things, so I won't. I won't waste my time or yours. You're supposed to read those words and your heart is supposed to break because you're supposed to understand that modern "love" is pretty fucked up.
You're supposed to read those things and think, "what the hell is happening?" and you're supposed to get upset when nobody can answer you because nobody has a fucking clue why this is happening.
Because let's face it, love is scary as fuck isn't it? The whole idea of genuinely being someone's best friend no matter what? There's risk in that, huh? Is that it? Doesn't that scare you?
You don't want to get too attached. Because hell, they could hurt you couldn't they? They could take your happiness away faster than they gave it to you in the first place. God, isn't that insane? You're afraid of loving people.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
But then there's lust, and lust isn't scary. There's no risk factor there right? You can lust for someone without the commitment. You can think they're the prettiest thing that exists but you don't have to hold them when they're crying or come pick them up when they've downed too many beers too fast? You can take their clothes off of them and love them and then leave their place the next morning like nothing ever happened, can't you?
You can think that their blue eyes hold all the answers to any question you could ever ask, but you never do ask. You don't care enough. That's the thing with lust. It's a spark and it dies out because you run out of things to burn. But you're afraid of love, right? So you're afraid of fire.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lust is the feeling. The desire. The wanting. The curiosity. The everything that makes you want more.
Love is a choice. You have a say in whether or not you love someone. You make the conscious decision to either be there for them 24/7 or not. You make the choice to love them when they triumph the same as when they tremble.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Lust is what makes you initially go for the person," one of you told me after I posed this question. "Lust brings intimacy. Lust is the spark. Love is the flame."
And that's the problem. So many are so willing to send sparks flying and so god damn fearful of the fire that love doesn't even stand a fucking chance.
But, in the words of another one of you, "Love has a tangible and moral purpose."
Maybe that's part of why love is so rare. Real love. You know, that lasts. It has purpose.
"Anyone can lust for someone," another one of you told me. "But not anyone can love."
And my heart is fuller than it has ever been, because you all have your hearts in the right place and good heads on your shoulders and I can not wait to watch you take on the world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You're probably wanting me to answer the questions I asked at the very beginning now, aren't you? I'm sorry. That was never the plan. I can't answer any of those. I wanted to make you wonder.
And I wanted to tell you a story. And I wanted to hear what you think too because this is something that doesn't get the attention that it should.
And I want you to really think before you tell someone you love them.
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note:
if you want my opinion on love and lust,
i see it the way i see most things.
like a trip to a bookstore.
lust is like thinking the cover of a book is pretty
and saying you love that book
when in reality you don't know a damn thing.
you don't know its story or where it came from.
you just like how it looks and you like holding it in your hands.
love is reading the same book over and over.
love is reading it once and then having to read it again
because you missed a few things due to laughing too hard or getting too upset.
love is memorizing your favorite lines
and not getting tired of them.
love is thinking the cover is beautiful
but still wanting to read every word.
maybe if you read more than the first few words you'll understand.
xox - i'm done crying in bookstores at 2 a.m. over people who didn't love me
(books have taught me more about love than anyone ever has)
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