The Truth about Love

I had an interesting conversation with a friend of mine on the way to work today, we spoke about love and how we each interpreted it. Now to understand why we had the conversation in the first place let me bring you into the picture, he is a friend now since he has been demoted from boyfriend a little while ago. I came to the realization that he and I were not suited for each other, not in the way we thought about love, life and everything else. Now I did not fuss and fight, kick or scream. I calmly told him that it’s just not working out. I am 30; I am not going to apologize for wanting what I want and I certainly and not going to beg anyone to give it to me. So now I am here in connecting singles because I reckon that the world is so very very big. There must be someone out there who will gladly be the partner I need. I am not in a rush, I am happy to wait. Back to this morning.

We ended up driving to Pretoria together because it was just convenient, I don’t really subscribe to the idea that friends can be lovers and ex lovers can be friends, but with him its ok, we limit the time we spend together. Maybe I am just growing up – watch out now! Feels good to think that. Am holding onto that thought. We got onto the topic of love because we spoke about our childhood and something in how he described his growing up struck me. It was a realization about me that made my world stand still for a few seconds. The thought nearly left my head just as soon as it popped in because I think sometimes my heart tries to sabotage my head – this ongoing battle I will tell you more about some other time. The thought is quite simple though.

I think that love is going to make everything better; I think that if you love someone then you won’t do anything to hurt that person or let that person down. What this also means is that if someone does something hurtful towards me (especially if it’s a loved one – mom, dad, or extended family) I think they don’t love me, stay with me here because the true insight for me is that – I do all I can so that the other person does not stop loving me, because this what I think love is – a reward for good behavior, a symbol of your worth –

I could be wrong.

In fact I am very wrong.

He described love in his child hood in the household as a delegation of duties and the execution of these duties diligently and responsibly. The nuts and bolts of being a family is what love was to him, not what you said but what you did – without saying it. He grew up never being told that he is loved but felt this love regardless, because he always felt safe, taken care of and in my case – I did not have this same upbringing (not safe, very different household) – thus love is the most important thing for me – because I think its the magic elixir that will fix everything and this is not necessarily so.

Now I am perplexed, is what I always thought love is a lie? A truth disfigured by my challenging childhood now nestled in my brain as my very own concept? Part of my identity. Can I change what I think love is? And say I change it, what then becomes of this love. Hummf.