Love (kinda part 2)

Contrary to popular belief most men do not get their inspiration or that moment of clarity while taking a dump. Many would love to think that the correlation between our bowel movement and cognitive functions is strong.

I was in the kitchen, like I usually am, either cooking, washing dishes or eating; all three activities are related to food. I'm seeing a pattern here, food and my thoughts (not that I'm a big eater). Anyway, I was in the kitchen washing dishes and using that alone time to reflect on life and love.

My career does not occupy my thoughts so much; there is less joy to be attained from something you spend most of your life time pursuing. The irony.

The thought of unconditional love entered my mind. There's that word again, that disturbing notion of love. Don't misunderstand me; like god I think it exists, but like god also I don't think one should place all ones stock in it. Some would call me cynical for my view on love, but life experiences have taught me much.

I once had a young lady profess such undying love for me; that even though she had joined a cult (known to most as a religion), of which the pious despot (aka pastor) had exorcised her demons, and convinced her that if she had sex with me again they would return. Writing this now, I truly question my choice of this young lady as a partner at the time; what the hell was I thinking. Ah, I wasn't thinking. She revealed this to me and said that she loved me so much that she did not want me to leave her; so I could have sex with whom ever I wanted once I stayed with her. At the time the proposal seem to be mad; I mean it was simply preposterous, no sex with her and still be dating her, still consider her my woman, how insane is that.

Suffice to say we went along our separate ways and at last check she had left the cult and found some one else to insert demons into her at will. So much for undying love.

The closest thing to unconditional love in my thirty odd years on this earth that I have experienced is the love I share with my son now; even when I feel like giving him a tap in his arse. Not even with my parents; and I know once J gets his innocence stolen by the world, my love for him will change.

And that is not a bad thing. It does not mean that I no longer love him; it just means my tolerance for his shit will decrease, my expectations of him increase; and with expectations comes disappointment, disillusion and all the other things that question and test the strength of love.

Love is suppose to be a marathon, not a sprint.

Ah! Love, mind numbing, thought altering, state of delirium, LOVE. A good friend of mind said to me that she wanted to grow old with someone; that of course being but one aspect of what she sees in her mind as an expression of love. I guess it would be, what else could explain wanting to be around someone long enough to see them become toothless, decrepit and senile (among other things) other than loss of your own lucidity. It must be love.

I am sure that I don't understand love, because understanding love requires you to understand and know people and yourself. According to my mom no matter how long you spend with someone you will never fully know them; she has been with my father for well over thirty years (I thing dem people pressing forty years together already); don't ask me if that is love, their relationship is a blog on its own. People never fully know or understand themselves. The Johari window gives great insight into how un-insightful we can be about ourselves.

Swingers love their spouses, yet they openly engage in the surrender of the flesh to human desire with other people (one of the biggest test of love in our sphere); this may not be some one else's notion of love. On the contrary many would view this as a perversion, anti-love behaviour. Rude, fast people, who says your definition of love must be mine. Ike beat the crapout of Tina Turner, but he claimed to love her.

We say and do many things in the name of love (poor jab love), we punish and compromise ourselves, sacrifice our very soul on the altar of love; in the moment, and a few hours, days, weeks, months maybe even years later we think to ourselves; what the hell was I thinking. But that's just it, whatever deluded perception you have of love, the common thing is its ability to cloud your judgement and distort the normal thinking process, sometimes with dangerous and life altering consequences.

Love! Irrespective of what you think about it, it is simply fascinating. I find myself observing young couples in love and thinking almost fiendishly, wait till later; you'll won't even see it coming, the hurt, the pain. Love can't exist without pain, the greater the love the greater the pain.

What we know of love is simply what we perceive it to be and our perceptions are very fluid.

Everyone at some point in their life falls in love and will as the sun rises every day, get hurt. Some of us never fully recover, some just never recover period. The brave or stupid, depending on who you ask, venture back out there to try their luck again (it is really a game of chance). We're humans, we never really give up all hope, so we hope this time will be better than the last.

Guess what!