That Four-Letter Word

-Unfortunately I am not about to launch into a passage regarding my dignified use of profanity at every conceivable occasion-

“I have loved to the point of madness, that which is called madness, that which to me, is the only sensible way to love.”- Françoise Sagan.

One could presume that I am fixated by LOVE: I may well be - it does not show any weakness in character nor an infatuated state of mind, as after all, what is life without love?

Love refers to an array of different components: the closeness of familial love, the platonic love of friendship, the sexual love and passionate intimacy of romantic love. Love may also be described as actions based on affection or indeed compassion.

I believe in true love, I believe in love at first sight. I believe there is someone who loves us just the way we are - in all our glory, melancholy or outright craziness. I believe that one should not shun past relationships, but rather learn and grow from them, as they are part of what shapes us as a person. I now believe that everything happens for a reason, in Karma, and that encounters and separation occur for the wellbeing of each party.

Love is an extremely powerful word, nonetheless, it is both over utilized and underutilized at the same time. The frivolous way the human race butchers the word bemuses me. On one side of the spectrum, love is a word that should be cherished - it should be used with care to avoid unnecessary hurt or heartache, so that when this declaration is actually used it becomes more meaningful. On the other hand, I have been in a situation where not proclaiming my feelings toward a very dear person has cost me the chance of never being able to enforce how adored he was by me - It is never too early to voice an emotion, but often too late. Although, as cliché as the phrase may be, it is the plain truth: Actions speak louder than words. In all honesty, the actual realization that another person loves you, without those 3 words being voiced, is the crux of a true bond.

Many are those who assume that the way to my heart is through fame, fortune, fancy or grand gestures of monetary value. I admit that I am not indifferent to such material matter, but as Laocoön warned the Trojans in the Aeneid: “Timeo Danaos et dona ferentēs” which is translated to “Beware of Greeks bearing gifts”. The real means by which to woo me is to offer me a heart of proverbial gold.

It has been said that as soon as we stop looking for love, that is when love comes knocking at our door. This is exactly what happens and what has happened: It creeps up on us when we least expect it, when we forget about dating, relationships, marriage or quite simply when we’ve stopped looking at the opposite sex in that way.

Contrary to my efforts, I do not possess a heart of stone. Once the guard is let down - thus at ease with my emotions - I am very open with them and I layer my cake of affection with a thick icing of adoration. I am known to trick myself into falling in love easily and very quickly, much to the dismay and pity of my friends and family. To them, I can hardly apologize for my outrageous anecdotes, as such self-ridicule proves a source of entertainment that brightens and colours their vanilla days. Do not get me wrong, there is nothing whatsoever frolicsome about my surrendering of sentiments, I do indeed get quite involved in the process - my passion for love and life seems to be my fateful forte. One becomes a slave to desire and foolish decisions are so oft made with the heart when the head disapproves: Love encompasses the body, mind and soul to such an extent that madness can develop.

There is an ongoing battle between these two proverbs: “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” vs. “Out of sight, out of mind”. The latter always reigns victorious in my humble opinion. The sentiment of missing someone can consume the soul in its entirety, but the spirit is fickle and swiftly finds other distraction on which to expend its energy.

The heart can never have too many heart-breaks. One can die of a broken heart this is for certain, but the heart is much stronger than we think. It has the ability to self-mend with the potent outside help of time, laughter, and rationality. As the Italians say, “Chiodo scaccia chiodo” or “Morto un papa se ne fa un altro”. Life goes on and a wound always heals. Huge ravines turn into crevices then into cracks and mini fissures. In the end scar tissue covers the bruised heart but remains as an aide memoire for the next time we flippantly invite our heart to a social interaction.

“Death leaves a heartache that no one can heal, love leaves a memory that no one can steal”

In philosophy, love is a virtue that represents all human affection, kindness and compassion. There is such complexity when describing love that it is almost impossible to define. To me, love is an emotion of strong affection and personal attachment. There is nothing more overwhelming and glorious than to love, be in love and to be loved in return.

It is astounding how a dog can love its master unconditionally. If only humans could follow canine example. There is so much more to that special relationship than purely being “a man’s best friend”. I do note that there is a tremendous difference between loving and being in love. I love ice cream, but I am not in love with the man who drives the ice cream van with its enticing melodic witchcraft jingle…

Despise me or fault me for the obnoxious number of times that I have written “that four-letter word” in this passage, but to be frank: On my head and my heart be it – my downfall this may well be, nevertheless, no matter what petty obstacles are thrown in my path, I shall never stop loving.

I love love and I love to love.

“Amor vincit omnia”- Virgil