I type the word and endless cliches come to mind, followed closely by cheesy lyrics. That crazy little thing called love. Love is in the air. Stop in the name of love. One love. Truly madly deeply. Still the one.
But to write about love itself in a raw, honest state is quite terrifying. All my words disappear.
I’ve never had my heart broken. I wonder what this says about me. I may have the allure of openness, but I’m not sure this is completely true.
Perhaps I have seen too many of the heartbroken, and decided this is a fate I’d like to spare myself.
Why do the heartbroken find it so hard to love again? People seem so jaded.
And once we have love is it enough? How do we get it to stay?
This article by Yes Magazine makes some interesting points. Our modern society emphasises Eros – love fuelled by passion and sexual desire. Yet apparently what we need is a love based on Philla – deep friendship with a large splash of Ludus – playful and frivolity. We put too much emphasis on falling in love, and not enough on “standing in love”.
I’m sure that’s something we can all relate to. But we’ve grown up with the idea that we want to feel in love, if we don’t feel that something’s wrong. Do we give up too quickly?
This is a great love quote from an old favourite novel of mine:
“Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion, it is not the desire to mate every second minute of the day, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every cranny of your body. No, don’t blush, I am telling you some truths. That is just being “in love”, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.”
― Louis de Bernières, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin
I like that quote. But it kinda disappoints me.
I still have no answers really. Any lovers out there full of infinite wisdom?