What I’ve noticed: Love is a feeling. Not news I may have said this before…
What Albert Camus has taught me; all of life is a spectacle keeping us distracted or engaged in nonsense. Vaguely aware of our lives passing through our hands, while holding on to the shit that doesn’t ultimately matter.
The last is a little Buddhism. Love does matter but not in the way we experience, i.e. clinging, demanding, without exercising radical kindness as every moment.
People ask the question all the time:
Does she/he love me?
How do I know if he/she loves me?
How do I know this is love?
Love or this insane desire to cling onto a person when commonsense, friends, and your spirit tells you to let go is..at the end of the day still a feeling.
What we never seem to remember in these intense moments of love: Everything has an end date, especially LOVE.
Does that sound extremely pessimistic? It is, but I’ve had a generous amount of experience with this intoxicating emotion. That’s until the heart breaks hangover set’s in.
Until disappoint, betrayal and plain old regret start to enter your subconscious.
Then the expiration countdown begins…
How do you stop it? I don’t know?
I think people can vaguely detect when it begins. Some are successful at stopping it or settling.
Should you stop it?
I’ve noticed a thick layer of apathy and resolve people seem to have about love. If you’re not screaming at each other, or no one is being hit.
Then the common responses are –
No one is perfect
Is this an acceptable measure of happiness? Are these respectable benchmarks for love?
It’s in movies, books, plays and your present experience – This is it?
Is this LOVE?