It’s indefinable. Love. Romantic love. Yet the eternal question still gleams. Is there a sustainable romantic love? Kindly don’t answer if you are currently potent with love. Scientists would claim that you are in the process of releasing chemicals that deploy rational thoughts.
Is this feeling called love just a mere chemical? Only to be released over and over with different individuals convincing yourself sweetly and momentarily that this is the one, this is it, you’ve hit love jackpot. Bingo. It’s all rather unsettling to me. I have always innately felt that society made that stuff up keeping us in a tight corner of fidelity, and have wondered if two people are meant to stay with one another or made to stay with one another?
Passion versus love.
One moment you feel that the great depths of passion have taken you into some private cave of delightful euphoria for weeks on end, months even and then slowly like peeling wallpaper, you begin to notice what lurks beneath the surface. What was once a delightful cave is soon transformed into a dungeon of monotony, which you may try to ignore and rationalize, especially if you’re having a fantastic time in the bedroom. You may notice it a lot faster if the boudoir is not as exciting. I know it’s a rather dramatic extreme but I’m trying to slice into the big pie of love and dissect it a little.
What sustains love? Taking the leap forward from passion into ever lasting love. I must admit I am rather tainted if not scarred by classic novels that portray love as the end of the path. Oh look! You’re in ‘love’… now you’ve arrived. Life is complete! As a child I would be horrified that my mother let these novels sit next to the elegant classics on her dusty bookshelf. In the large tea-tray of life, is love the sugar cube that sweetens the deal, the added bonus to an already full tray? It’s hard for me to imagine it to be the binding ingredient.
Am I jaded? Absolutely. Coming to realize that the fairy tale most little girls look for has changed, I have seen many lazy princes flee when the princesses realize that there is a big brain under that tiara and that a horse can only take you so far. Imagine how bumpy the ride is, clutching on to some prince on a wobbly saddle? It is much more advisable for a princess to hop onto her own horse discovering the sunset and maybe some more princes? Yes, fairytales have changed and if that doesn’t ruin it for you, you should know that most of them were derived from horror stories.
I’ve often wondered about romantic love, the Mills and Boons kind, that vomit out the notions of women being rescued from themselves and possibly their own liberating thoughts and are cast in the sticky net of love shrouded in flowery prose. For the unknowing love enthusiast, this could be the prototype of love that we are expected to re-create for ourselves, the society standard. If we fail to meet it does this mean our love isn’t as true? If this is the stencil for what real love entails, I’m certainly going to need a lot of pencils.
In half jest and utter mortification of some of my gal-pal’s love ideals, I have conjured a few new terms for my mental love dictionary.
Term One: Love escapism. A created fallacy or notion by some dreamy female of what true love means and if we don’t receive it we’re disappointed, especially if it doesn’t last. I mean how could he not send you a room full of flowers and serenade you after your first fight? Oh yes, the word stalker doesn’t fit into the escapism dictionary.
Term two: Cookies in the jar. A woman that knows better will know that she can dive in and grab another. Do I have to explain what cookie represents? Really?
Do love and loyalty often get married anymore and if they do, do they cheat? There are lots of fine lines such as the internet, texting, same gender smooches? No wonder I’m so confused, the ‘fine lines’ have lots of loopholes.
Taking the housewife, the working woman and mother into consideration, or the woman that does it all. I wonder – pen in mouth chewing feverously as I gather thoughts, if she thinks romantic love is sustainable? Juggling laundry, dinner and her job, I’m pretty sure the last thing on her mind is to be enveloped in romantic love, especially if her toddler is chewing on a dryer sheet whilst she daydreams. Throw in a nanny, along with a blow-dry and pedi and she may give it a moment’s thought, with a night’s promise of relaxed fornication. Is it a 24-7 feeling? I personally doubt it. Ok, so your man helps with the dinner and laundry, or it’s his job, I still doubt it’s a 24-7 feeling.
The single mother has even lesser hopes. Using her ex-husbands last picture as a dartboard, happily, she realizes that if there is a prince charming out there, he certainly isn’t going to come first and to the horror of a romantic novel’s heroine, she’s content being on her own, nesting her own eggs.
My theory is that love can bring two people together and attachment, comfort, makes them stay. There can be nothing fundamentally wrong with that, but where is the spark that we long for, the one that the greatest love stories were written about? I would love to say that the spark lasts, maybe it turns into something different, maybe the spark equals sustainable love? Hmm, not sure.
I admit, I’m in a state of confusion about it all. As much as I try to calculate the mathematics of love I can’t seem to get an exact answer. It leaves me toying with the thought of people becoming so overloaded with options and potential suitors that they have developed an immunity to love, casting it off as a liberal term for initial passion. On the odd moment or two I return my thoughts back to the series of slanting dust infused novels on my mother’s bookshelf, smiling at the thought of romantic love, heroes, horses and sunsets. I may not have all the answers but I know that love, romantic, chemical or whatever other terminologies there may be has evolved just as we have. I suppose, even if it’s fleeting or if its sustainable we’re better off experiencing it, just so that ride into the sunset becomes more fun.