So, for those of you who read this blog, I have submitted my fan fiction to a good friend of mine who is running a nerd's website of sorts. He will be debuting it soon, I believe, and I will be published under a pen name, largely due to the fact that I'm not really ready to attach my name to something this big. It may also be that I'm outwardly very much a prude, and this fan fiction is definitely blush worthy. Needless to say, The Nerd Filter will be launched very soon, so you all should definitely subscribe to it. It is run by a couple of my coworkers, and I have no doubt that it will be a huge success. It is also a relief to finally be rid of that God-awful piece of writing.
On to my topic for the week: love. It's a topic that has come up before. I've mentioned it in terms of lust and the differences between the two, and I said that I wasn't really sure what the differences between the two were. Not to say they aren't mutually exclusive: you can love someone and definitely lust after them, though the two feelings are definitely very different, and I did know that, but I didn't understand how. But I think I'm beginning to.
The feelings I felt for the subject of those poems were primal, basic, and without much depth. Lust is primal. Lust is looking at someone and saying, take me, if only for tonight, and not caring what happens afterward. Or you might care, but it isn't about what happens to the person you are feeling for. Lust is a dream and a figment of your imagination, what you wish could be love, but in your heart of hearts, you know can't be. It is selfish and it is a dark curiosity that can easily be satisfied.
Love is innumerably deeper. Love is bigger than physical attraction. Love is admitting to yourself that pride doesn't matter. Love is that connection, that understanding that you share with someone to imply your desire to do whatever it takes to make the other person's life better. Sometimes it comes in the form of reverence. Sometimes it comes in the form of embrace (and I do mean embracing personality quirks). Sometimes it comes in the form of sacrifice. You literally lose all desire to gain anything that would detriment the other person in any way. There are even cases, more numerous than should be physically possible, where we lay our hearts on the line for the people we love, where we take our hearts and smash them up before we can even try to receive love. We look at ourselves and deem ourselves too unworthy for the person we love to even dare consider giving ourselves a chance because we'd rather not disappoint the objects of our affections. We would rather stay away than risk injury. It is, of course, a noble effort, whatever the cost. I myself have been found guilty of dismissing my value for the value of keeping someone safe, and I have found people guilty of doing it for me. Some of those people were right in doing so. Not all of them were.
It is in those few cases that I would advocate for strength and courage. I have been the victim of being kept safe from the love of another, and more than anything, I was offended that I was not given the opportunity to make that decision myself. I would have asked for a chance, and damned the consequences, for I missed out on something that I might have wanted, had I known it was an option. True love only comes to us in every few lifetimes, and it is not something to be dismissed for what would seem to be the greater good. Pain, while not pleasant, is a reminder that we are alive and that we are strong. I would rather live in pain and see life for what it could be than merely survive without feeling at all. I want to be loved, and not for my beauty or my grace, but for my intellect and my good humor and, damn it all if not for my clumsy feet as well. I have had enough of lust. Whatever the sacrifice, I want to feel love again, and make someone feel loved even more than that. We all should get that chance at least once, to have that satisfaction of making someone feel whole.
I know this post is a little preachy. I know there's no poem this time. But I guess I figured there are enough love poems in the world, and I'm sure I'll write more of my own on my own time anyways. I just want it to be clear that I do get it. I know what it is to lust, and I most assuredly know what it is to love. Perhaps I will even find love someday. I'll be looking for it, wherever it is.
This post is dedicated to an old friend, who also needs to learn the difference between lust and love.
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