VIVA LA JOY. (_bulldoze) wrote,
VIVA LA JOY.
_bulldoze

the Language of Love.

The word "Love" is a scary one, and the use of it to me is something that requires far too much deep contemplation. I find it inevitable that after you spend enough time with someone, you find yourself close to them; perhaps closer to them than you do many people you know. But the presence of intimacy in any relationship or friendship with someone automatically makes the simple word "Love" one of the most detrimental and frightening words in the history of friendship, sex, maybe even mankind entirely. No matter how close you are to someone, no matter how much you care about someone, and no matter how much valued time you spend with someone, bringing intimacy into the equation completely skews the meaning of Love until it can no longer be used to say what may be the truth.

I guess people fail to realize the difference between "loving" and "being in love" in intimate relationships. Although there is this thing we know as "the language of love," it seems to be different in every person, and as soon as tongues touch, we can no longer understand a damn thing our partner is saying. There are too many things to consider when someone says the word "Love," and there are far too many conjugations. In a lifestyle wherein I embrace this curse I have over my language of love, rendering me a deaf mute, I have become used to hearing no foreign rants in that confusing language, and not needing to express any myself. I found for a while that the easiest way to interpret the language of love was to leave the room as soon as someone started speaking in that jibberish bullshit. And that's what I would do, whether I wanted to or not, arms linked with the curse that lead me confidently through the door.

But the curse has become unreliable, and I find myself having to confront that language by trying to find books on tape and thousand page manuals that'll make this learning process a little easier, considering I am out of practice. I find myself forcefully muting myself for fear that when I try to speak a sentence in this foreign language, I'll screw up the pronunciation of one single syllable and accidentally say something overtly profound or absolutely wretched. "Loving" and "being in love" are phrases too close in their pronunciation that I dare not even try to say either. As a result, I'm faced with a debacle of sorts. I find myself walked out on by my curse and left to contemplate the meanings of Love and where they may be showing up in my life while sitting on a familiar bed that is not my own. I can't deny feelings for people all the time, and therefore I am forced to return to a select few more than once, which inevitably causes these interventions with myself about what to think as opposed to trying to say it.

Perhaps I misunderstood my curse all this time, and its methods of helping me through this era of excitement and promiscuity were far more superior than I considered. Perhaps its aid in avoiding love is selective and precise, and although it may help me to avoid "being in love," it will still allow me to become close to people and care about people in a manner that I don't many. It will still protect me and watch over me as a guardian of sorts, but it won't stop me from admitting that there are some people that I just really enjoy having in my life. It will still be my beloved curse, and the only thing I can truly be in love with in my life, but it won't stop me from realizing that I don’t have to be in love in order to have a few people in my life that I truly Love.
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