Meaningless, Innate, Dead Words

I’ve thought on love a lot lately. My sister got married this year to her husband, they are madly in love. Long time couples, friends, are abound lately, deep in relationships and happily in love. It’s hard to understand the concept. The words, what they mean: “I love you.”

I’m not so sure I know.

I know when they are said to me, I believe in their meaning. But the meaning is different to all of us, right? We all feel things in different ways, interpret words in different ways, so how do you really know?
You can be lost in someone and think it’s love. You can be needy, lonely or depressed and meet someone and think it’s love.
Seriously, is that really possible?
Can being in love be measured or planned? For the sake of romance, I hope not.

Since I’ve been in San Francisco, I’ve been fortunate enough to toy around with love a bit. I am in love with this city that’s for sure. There’s so much to offer here, so much to do. It’s a beautiful city, especially at night. Much more beautiful when you have someone to share it with though. Way better.

That’s when love becomes scary though. You stop being able to imagine what it would be like to not know her. You begin to understand why she’s quiet, when she is. If there’s something wrong or if she just needs down time. You begin to understand if there’s an elephant in the room that no one can see or if she’s just in a mellow mood. You become scared of losing her. You think about how she feels or what she tells you she needs. You consider lying to her if you have to, just to be with her.
“It’s fine, I don’t mind.”, when it’s really not fine and you really do mind.
I’ve heard it said that when people are in love, that they’ll do anything for that person. I’m not sure that’s true. Sometimes you have to cut loose, you have to let go. But no one really *wants* to lie, now do they.
I tell you, love makes you do fucked up things.

So what is it? Can love ever really be understood? For me, not intellectually at least. Which brings me to my point. The words: “I love you.”, do they have meaning? Are they meaningless? Innate? Dead? Is it not someones actions which show they are in love with you? When they are dedicated, sincere, and care about your feelings and actually demonstrate it? When they go out of their way to show you? Is love just someone who is willing to put up with your baggage?

It’s a hard thing to do, I tell you.
But life is risk. So is love.

I’m not sure. I wish I understood it. I can tell you this though: When it’s right, it’s right. When two people can look each other in the eyes and say “I’m scared shitless but fuck it, we’re in this together, you and I.”:

That’s love. It doesn’t have to be said.


~ by Chadrick on December 16, 2007.

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