Love is a Choice
Following up from my previous post on what it means to love, I was going to write something this morning about love languages and I stumbled across this amazing blog which kept me busy for at least an hour. The amazing part is that I read a lot and I skim the surface thin, fast and furious, but with her I drifted slowly and I languished in every word in depth. She is Janna Cawrse Esarey at seattlepi and she touched some nerves.
Reading her stuff this morning gave me confidence to continue writing. I’m very new to blogging (although much older than her in years I presume) and I’m currently going through this soul searching period like a smoker giving up smoking where I am convinced that my writing doesn’t matter and I should stop writing, but I also know that I should press on because somebody somewhere might be touched by something I say. I feel ready to give up giving up.
Reading her above post was also a reflection on my previous relationships. Every time I fell in love with something or somebody – I just knew. And I went for it. And I was very happy while it lasted. But after the honeymoon is over you have to ask yourself seriously: Why am I still in this relationship? Janna seems to grasp that so well.
Allow me to expand a little (and here I’m going to be such a boy): When I see a new car I know I want it and I buy it and I drive it everywhere and I am so excited. But after a while the odo clicks on and the car needs a service, maybe even a repair. Do I love my car any less because of that? Unlikely.
And so it is with the women I loved. From the first moment I saw them I knew they would play a role in my life. I chose to take the feeling of excitement further. I chose to date her, woo her, love her, and marry her. And while married when the babies came and we were tired and life was more difficult, I still loved her. It was my choice.
But after a while when it wasn’t only fun and sex any more and it became “hard work” so to speak, I think we started drifting apart. Every time I wanted to grumble I didn’t give up – I reminded myself of my choice. At least I like to think. But it takes two people to form a relationship, and I wonder if one person can make it work alone. I have a strong suspicion it takes two people making similar choices before it can work.
So, the real question isn’t “is he/she the one” … no, I think the real question is: “is this person serious about making the often dramatic switch from excitement to commitment”. From entertaining to happiness (see Janna also).
And how do you know that?
Restaurant food is always fun and exciting with no dirty dishes, whereas home cooking is repetitious and requires many hours of dirty sweaty work in front of the stove. Yet we must eat. It is our choice where we eat.
I guess … dare I say this? … I still love all the women in my life. I just choose not to eat there every night.
September 11th, 2010 at 9:58 am
Considerably, the piece is in reality the top on this valuable subject. [edited for brevity]