Love. We very often use this word. But I think we don’t understand the depth and meaning of this emotion. It starts with a mere recognition, a likeliness you are not aware of. It feels good. And you don’t even know when it will become an agonizing fire inside you. Fire, of passion, a warmth that you feel inside. First, you deny but if it’s true you will succumb to all your resistance. Many want to possess this love. They follow them. Keep a check on their activities. Think about them all the time. If you are in love with someone this will all seem true to you and you will agree with this. Now here is my perception of love. Saying I love you is the highest expression of emotion you can express. If I say I love you then I mean it with all my mind and heart. Yes, my mind too. Love is not a single emotion. It encompasses all. It has friendship, acceptance, time, forgiveness, trust, respect, loyalty, and liberty. If you miss any of this, then you don’t love completely.
And guess what, true love can never be in possession. People are so busy making them theirs. If they marry then they are the luckiest if they sustain that love till death do them part. To have and to hold is precious and only the luckiest can cherish them.
For me, the beloved is placed on the highest pedestal. You can look at him, and smile but you can’t reach him. You don’t want to. And you know that and you have to live with that. You give them the utmost respect. You LOVE them so much that you don’t seem capable of having them or even confessing your deepest desires. You just listen to them with all your attention. Their intelligence fascinates you. How they think. How politely they speak. How they argue without yelling but with solid reasons and are radical in their truth. Their own truth. They seem so innocent that it looks like they have never shouted, such calm and composure surround them. But you suspect that this face smiles a lot and laughs a lot. You keep a distance and let them enjoy their space and life. If they are happy then you are happy.
Sometimes you want to share that space, you have it but you are afraid to be an intruder. You are just so careful of their ease. Participes curarum, sharer of cares. Bacon has the right word. You just remain that and you deem yourself happy to be even that. You wish to share their life too but that just remains a wish. Sharing a life of sorrows, of happiness, of victory, of retreat, of silent moments, of entwined hands, of wake nights, and laughy days. This all remains but a deepest wish, not a regret of not confessing. Not a regret! You love them so much that you don’t care if they love anyone else or not. Do they love someone? Will he love me as he loves others? Can I have a place where everything begins, the very heart, the very front of the head, the very back of the brain from where we dwell in dreams, the very last moment when sleep begins? These all questions intrigue you but you never say them from your tongue.
How can you when you haven’t even told yourself that you love him?
Your ears have not listened to these words in your voice. Not even a hushed voice. You don’t even confide in God, because it’s that impossible. You just ask Him to lessen the pain but then you don’t want it to go either. You may call it a cursed life or a deliberate mistake. It is the miracle you don’t want to happen. Because you are so sure that it won’t.
Yes, my friend, that’s my love. What’s yours like?