I wish I could sit love down and have a chat with him. I'll tell him to stop popping in and popping out of peoples lives like it was a children's game. Don't you know lives are wrecked by your whimsical behavior? That's what I'll tell him. Stop picking people up, whirring them up to dizzying heights then letting them fall and dash themselves into a million pieces. Once you come, stay- damn it! We are at your mercy, o love! Once you come into our hearts, for heaven's sake- stay there forever.
Invariably, I fell in love again- like a dog chasing its own tail. It hit me like it did the first time- a bolt through my heart; ice and fire racing through my veins. I saw the scented mist falling over my eyes as I beheld a goddess. Fickle love had sneaked in, stoked my emotions into a roaring fire, consuming my reason- releasing overwhelming passion.
But my old wounds still burned and my mind struggled against the numbing sensation. This was how it felt the last time- dazzling lights, deafening music- and where did I end up? In the garbage dump. Open your eyes, man. At least check to see if she has slanting eyes. So, I shrugged off the stupor and peered. Indeed, she had slanting eyes and, not with me though, but with friends she had known before me, she snapped a lot and slipped into moods easily.
I dug in my heels, refusing to be swept on by my swirling emotions. Things that had been hurtling along at the speed of light, slowed down to a snail's pace. All of a sudden, I could see- every wart, every mole, every spot, every wrinkle. We talked and I heard her say- I need to know where you are all the time. We talked and I heard her say- I need you to hold me, not when you feel like, but every time I ask you to. She heard me too. She heard me tell her my brothers will drop by in the middle of the night and expect to be let in. She met my mum and I told her- I don't want to have to choose between the two of you.
Then, I went home at night and I thought about what I had seen and heard. There were no stars in procession. I held her against the harsh light of reason. Like unploughed land, she would require lots of work but...hmmm...something, deep, deep down was certain that, beneath the brush, she was fertile earth. If I clear the bushes, sow the right seeds, tend them with the patient consistency of a loving gardener, someday- near or far I cannot tell, but someday- she will bloom into a delightful field, full of fruit and shade. I thought about her sincerity- how she told me what she thought. I thought about her understanding- how she listened to what I said. She could be my friend. She could be my sister. I tossed, I turned and then I stood up and said- I want her. I choose her.
When I woke up the next morning, her stale breath didn't shock me. I put the burden of her moods on my shoulder; I had prepared to bear them. I didn't expect her to be perfect; I knew she wasn't so I set out everyday to patiently tend her into perfection. When I felt her hands on me, trying to do the same, trying to smoothen out my roughness and mould me, though it felt awkward, I yielded and let it happen. It still felt like a tie tied too tight but I knew, with patience, I could loosen the knot and gently re-tie it.
Slowly, the effort became less conscious. It became a habit to respond with a smile; to delay a hasty reply; to bend over backwards. That was when I noticed that, while I was watching over my garden, something had grown in my heart. It was different from anything I had ever felt before. It didn't feel intense and tortured. It didn't rise and wane. It didn't leave me wondering if it would stay forever. And I knew that this…resolution in me; this stability, this strength; this knowledge that I would be with her forever- was love. It had not jumped into my emotions from an unknown source and driven me into frantic, hasty decisions. No, it had climbed out a decision made in the clarity of my mind to do whatever it took to make my woman happy.
I had found my peace.
What I'm Trying to Say
Love is not a feeling, so don't bother asking which one of the million and one things you feel when you see an attractive man or woman- is love. None of them is. None of them is the sign that he or she is the one. Nothing you feel confirms the rightness of your urge to pursue them or guarantees the happiness of a future with them. The truth- the certainty you seek- is not in your feelings. They will always be what they are- temperamental, fickle and constantly changing. That is the eternal nature of our feelings.
Love is a choice. It is a decision you make, after you've seen the facts. Love chooses. Love decides. It is not a mysterious charm or an over powering attraction that holds it down. Love is always free, never bound. It stays because it chooses to stay. It is not at the mercy of emotions it cannot control. It does not depend on feelings it cannot control. Love is sure and certain because it is produced by the one thing man has control over- his will. I tell you- love is the decision to be with someone and do whatever it takes to make it work.
It is not what you think in your head or feel in your heart. It is what works for the person you are living with. Deciding to discover what this is and to do it consistently, regardless of how you may feel on any given day, this is what love is. It is in this sense that the Bible says, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son” (John 3:14). In plain english- God wanted to be with man and did what needed to be done to make it happen. We do not love because we feel; we love because we are willing and able to do what needs to be done to be with someone.
So the next time you wonder- is it love? Don't check how you feel. Look at the person- look at their needs and their expectations, their dreams and their aspirations, their weaknesses and their inadequacies- and ask yourself; am I willing and able to make this person happy?
