Saturday, 27 November 2010

What is love part one and two.

Evening to you all from a chilly Corfu. I think winter is finally upon us. Last week, the island was lashed by storms and some of the heaviest rainfall in years, resulting in damage to many properties. Thank goodness the internet didn’t go down in my area. What a case of sacre bleu that would be.
Christmas is approaching fast but I am resisting putting up my tree just yet otherwise, come Christmas day, we are all already sick of the decorations. Corfu at Christmas time is pretty nice. The town’s tree-lined avenues are lit up by tiny white lights; simple but so effective.
So- on to today’s ramble. I must confess, this week I am cheating. I am going to repost a couple of discussions I posted back in 2008, originally on Myspace. My reason for reposting? To share with my new blog followers and fellow writers my insight into that mysterious thing called love. After all, isn't it what makes the world go around? So here goes and I look forward to your feed back....


What is love part one

What is love? An easy enough question. Then again, maybe not. First off, love is a word. It defines an emotion, a state of mind. What makes one person's emotion any less or more than another's? What is true love as opposed to infatuation, crush, obsession? To me there should be no difference. Love is a feeling, a spiritual connection with someone or something, be he/she/it be known to us personally or not.
Why do I bring this up? Yesterday, I read on a posting {doesn't matter where or who} that this person felt sad because no one close to her could understand her 'love' for a certain singer who she admired. I can imagine the snorts of disbelief, the 'aren't you a little old to be having crushes?' 'Why are you wasting energy on someone you will never hope to meet and if if you did, he's Gay.'
My answer to these scoffing, cynical folk is - and so what if she doesn't ever meet him? Does that make her feelings any less real? As for wasted emotion, emotion - especially of love - is never wasted. It is what makes us human and what keeps us alive. It is better to give than receive, to love is more important than to be loved. It is what is in your heart that is important. The sense of euphoria, the joy, the laughter of the person who prompted this blog is experiencing is just as real and intense than if this object of her desire was known to her.
Love is a feeling, nothing tangible that we can grasp on to and label. I am no big fan of opera but when I hear Pavarotti sing Nessun Dorma I want to cry. At that moment I am in love; with his voice, the music. He moves me into a state of high emotion. When I watch Russell Crowe deliver his final speech in Gladiator, I weep for this imaginary character of Maximus and for all he has suffered. I feel as if my heart is being ripped from my chest. At that moment I love him. I want to kill all those who have hurt him. Is this emotion wasted? No and if anyone of you out there cannot grasp what I am saying then I truly feel sorry for you.

Love part two

Someone once sang - Love is a drug. Pop quizzers amongst you will know it was the suave, sexy Bryan Ferry. Mr.Ferry was so right. For those of you out there, caught up in the whirlwind of fresh, sweet new love, you will know what I am talking about. For those who are settled in a relationship - albeit husband/wife/lover - I want to take you on a journey, a voyage into those first golden days; of halcyon days of a relationship. Isn't the rush incredible? That liquid warmth seeping into your blood, surging through your veins,powering its way to take a grip on your heart,squeezing all sanity from what you believed to be your rational, logical oh so controlled thought. Oh how arrogant.Just a look, one smile, a simple touch and your world explodes into brilliance, shattering your ice shield of reserve. You can barely speak, words that usually come so easily to your quicksilver, all too often caustic tongue freeze in your throat. The world around you fades into insignificance. Senses are heightened, You are floating, his/her words caress your ear, a symphony of pleasure, eyes devour you, until your stomach is doing more back-flips than Comeneci. Euphoria! Food of the Gods! Yes indeed, love is a most powerful mind-altering drug.
But then - the come-down. Can there be such raw, gut-wrenching pain? Your stomach churns, heart pulls and tugs inside your chest, lungs ready to explode from repressed sobs because - hey- you are an adult. You cannot allow people to see you weak, emotional - oh so vulnerable.
This unbearable sense of total dejection has many causes. A failed relationship, betrayal. A love you now know to be futile because as much as he/she still cares for you as a person, you know it is over. Your fingers ache to touch him/her, to draw him/her back into your arms and let free what is in your heart. So what do you do? You swallow your pain and continue giving him/her what they have come to love about you; your undivided loyalty, your love, understanding and support as a friend. A shoulder to cry on when their life is not going well. when he/she is down and lonely. You bite down hard on your lip and smile as he/she confides in you about their love, their real love, a new love to which you take second place. You cover up your incredible hurt and envy (you are human} with humour. You give all the right answers, offer up calm, adult advice by the bucket-load but really all you want to do is childishly kick sand in your 'rival's' eye.
So,what is the cure? Go cold turkey? Walk away from what is an emotional whirlpool? Feasable - if you are sensible, strong but no. You are too heavily under the influence of the 'drug' and, as with all addicts, the desire to quit must come from within and let's face it, who of you out there are strong enough to walk away? You are so bound by the barbed claws of your addiction, one drop of their affection is enough to send you soaring back up to dizzy heights? How can you walk away when each minute, hour you are with him/her is sheer heaven? Is it enough to sustain you through night's lonely, cruel hours as you toss and turn, consumed by longing, despising yourself for your weakness? It has to be because, as much as you rationalise, as many times as you tell yourself there is no hope, one tiny mutant cell in your brain continues to grow, spreading to your soul and heart which, in turn, cling fearlessly to a gossamer thread. A thread called....hope. Hope the love that was once so magical, can be rekindled.