Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose Worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom:
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
- William Shakespeare
I’m sleepy, exhausted and rambling. Bear with me.
So, What is “love”? If you answered “a hormonal state”, I’d very much agree with you! “A matter of the heart”? Not much so, I’m afraid.
I love my mother and my little sister, it’s not “hormonal”. Is it “a matter of the heart”? There is an undeniable attachment, but that could simply be habitual. Like an addiction.
I love my friends, well some of them at least, and that’s not hormonal nor is it habitual. It is a very conscious decision, a logical sort of “love”.
I love Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon”, anyone who’s heard that album would call my love irrational. Who’d love an album on death, war, greed and nothingness?
It sounds so perfect the way Shakespeare puts it. But has anyone else found that perfect love or was Shakespeare and everyone who’s ever written about love fascinated by a “love” described by an innominate at time immemorial?
There is the attraction, the hormonal part, the part concerned with our survival, which I think we can all agree to. Then comes the moral conduct, the commitment, the relationship. The two together make “love”, but what if one of them were missing?
He was attracted to the girl, addicted to her, the weight of the biological needs of the entire human race were pushing him towards her, but he was married to another woman. Is he attracted to the woman with which he shares the moral conduct of a relationship? I cannot tell you. Should he break that moral conduct and forge a new one with his new “drug”? I was hoping you can tell me.
He wanted to make her a home, provide for her, make her feel safe. Why her? She fit his description of the person who would make his life complete. Does he want children with her? Yes. Does he feel a pressing urge to be close to her, to touch her skin or smell her hair? No. He’s here to listen to her talk about her long day, her hobbies of which he knows nothing, the books she reads which make no sense to him. But he never told her how beautiful she was. Did he even think she’s beautiful?
That's it for today, ladies and gents. If I come across any more thoughts I'll make sure i share them with you.