Love and Passion
When I first kissed Kate, I viewed love as being like an unapposable force drawing two people together. A desire to take that person and make her as happy as possible in as many ways as possible. I used to think that love was searching for the person who filled you with such ecstasy that you could not imagine being with out her. However, I was wrong.
An aquaintance once told me (in front of a whole audience) that love is rebuilding things when they have been damaged and most importantly, wanting to rebuild them. But he isn't right either.
Since I have been with Kate over these past few months, i have come to realize that love is something very different. It's much quieter, much more subtle and ultimately that much more wonderful. To paraphrase the movie Captain Corelli's Mandolin, love is not a desire for something so strong it is greater than that for life itself. That is passion. Love is what is left over when passion dies and there is nothing else new to discover about each other. I would say that love is still desiring each other as much as the day you first met--if not more so--even after everything new and exciting has been discovered and there are no more stones left unturned. It is not passion, although passion leads to love. It is the simmering embers that remain once the fires of passion have been banked.
posted by Anonymous @ 6:34 PM
13 Comments:
i don't think your explanation of love is quite right either.
mostly because i don't think there can be an explanation for love since there are so many different ways to love someone.
instead i think love is like a tree that seems to shade a certain region until you try to dig outisde its boundaries and realize there are roots growing farther and faster than you can see.
you wake up one day and realize you don't remember why -- if you ever had a reason -- you love this person, except that you do and it can't be explained. it just is.
um... might as well throw in my two cents.
love is...
um...
it's a very protective feeling (at least from my point of view) where you feel an irrational need to be near the person in question, seeing them makes the day a little more relaxed, and overall (if the love is returned anyways) there is a very real feeling that there is a strong and almost physical connection between you and the other person.
Essentially love is finding someone to fulfill the yin and yang interweave.
...you're sweet, H.
I dunno... I think love never gets dull. I think that when the passion leaves a relationship, it means that the love is waning. It can come back, and often does; but I think that the two are intimately intertwined.
I also think that love isn't completely irrational. There are specific things that lovers love about each other. And it can happen slowly, too. Or fast. I don't think there's an overarching rule for all love because I think each person's definition of love changes its reality in their lives. If that makes sense.
Love is an abstract concept and like all abstract conceptions it isn't really anything. But I've found something I can call love and it's wonderful for me and that's enough.
No no...I'm not saying love doesn't have any passion in it...what I'm saying is that you don't really know its there untill a bit of time has gone by and the newness of everything has worn off. Love can and should be passionate, but I don't think that you can tell the difference in the beggining because you're so empassioned with the newness of everything that the passion covers the love up. It's only after a bit of time has gone by and you don't need the newness anymore that you can tell that love is there.
And think about it...love and passion go together, but they aren't necessarilly the same thing. After all...hopefully you'll still love your partner when you're seventy...but I certainly hope that there won't be any physical passion between you...
My point is that love remains after passion has gone away.
I dunno...if I think I still can do it when I'm seventy, I damn well will.
Love you.
"When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No... don't blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn't sound very exciting, does it? But it is!"
-the direct quote
"When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No... don't blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn't sound very exciting, does it? But it is!"
-the direct quote
"When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No... don't blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn't sound very exciting, does it? But it is!"
-the direct quote
okay, not quite sure why it posted all of those, i only sent it once. sorry :)
okay, not quite sure why it posted all of those, i only sent it once. sorry :)
Hey, old people have sex! Most of them get too lazy but there are the few virile ones. Look at Mr. Poet!
Well...you have to understand Veronica, Mr. Poet isn't just any old person...he's the man.
And that's why he has sex despite being old. And really, when you think about it, he isn't old. I mean, he's lived a long time, but he's very lively (I'm Annette could tell us just how lively) and young at heart...and that's what counts isn't it? So Mr. Poet doesn't count. He is the exception to the normal laws of life and physics that puzzels all the scientists for years.
*edit*
There's supposed to be a "sure" in between I'm and Annette in that last comment.
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