Since time immemorial, Love has been that enigmatic emotion which has successfully reduced men, women, kingdoms and values to ashes. Nobody lives to tell the tale of overcoming the necessity for love except for saints and sages, but then they too get enough love from followers to buy an entire country if that love could be converted into currency. The only biggest hindrance to that kind of love that would leave us shaken and stirred and elevated is time. Ask those who are going in for round three or four or five, having exhausted the safer bets in their youth.
Who wants the guy who holds the car door open? He kisses like a frog. Cold, wet, sloppy, literally writing the preliminary tale of horror in your love story. Who wants the boy who can’t seem to get out of the concentric circles his mommy has woven around him with a diet of good food and emotional blackmail since he was eight? Who wants the man who has had a couple of marriages before and obviously, something is very wrong with the colour of his shirt?
So the thing about Love is the thing that we do to ourselves as we try and fail, fall down and get smashed, swallow our pride and snot; we want to believe in finding love, recognising love, keeping love and becoming eventually ‘one of those’ who got lucky again (and again and again), but…wait for it…but, we aren’t willing to put in the work. Who said it was romance and not work? Remember first time and second time and third time? Remember when you were beginning to get comfortable and a frisbee came out of the blue and knocked the pretty crown off you head because the man emerged to be half-a-version of Hulk, all confused, still green and definitely clunky? You ran then because you would’ve had to do the work of keeping him by your side even when he looked really a half-and-half thing.
Love is work. Repeat it. Love is work, and the rest becomes less painful. Finding a partner of the opposite sex or same sex or any sex is not a challenge anymore. But the thing about Love is that it was never understood, and will never unravel itself to be a simple thing that makes anyone happy. It is like a multi- layered, complex, rich cake which if cut through looks marvellous, tempting and even awe-inspiring. If you taste it, you won’t get all the layers at once. How can you? You’re not a Hippo or a Mammoth with a mouth the size of Doomsday. So you will get some of it, chew on it, let the saliva flow through your mouth, coat your tongue and then you’d want some more. It will take you a while to get through all the layers and if your appetite wasn’t strong enough to begin with, you’re likely to throw up.
Moral of the story? There are no morals or immaculate experiences in love. The cake analogy…remember that one. Shakespeare had said, Love is a many- splendored thing. It is, as long as you know that the thing about Love is that it equals a lot of work. And staying power. If you don’t want to stay in love, don’t try again with the view that you will finally decipher it, conquer it and emerge victorious. That has never happened and never will for anyone. You can only go with the flow every single time, and pretend that you’re accosting Love for the first time.