I wonder upon love today. It is to me a great enigma. A very odd journey that seems confused a very great majority of the time.
Inborn, inbreed a deep hole of desire that reaches out like tendrils in an almost constant fashion and is either requited or unrequited. If only the majority of cups were full I think the world would be a better place.
Understanding each other, men and women, is all at once extremely complicated and sublimely simple. A choice really. A dying to self. Some are not capable.
The love of another seems something no man (or woman) can do without and yet so few have their innermost deep yearning fulfilled.
Some of us choose wrong, some of us make very big mistakes that can’t be undone. Some of us are just too strong willed. Sad really. Intimacy makes for greater inner strength if the sum of two parts is greater than themselves on their own and also makes a way stronger soul fly much higher on another plane.
Loving is indeed dying in many ways. Some just can not or will not die and so will never fly. Not on earth in this finite body.
And yet dying to self can be so freeing.
Love is certainly not only physical, it is so much more.
Love is strong, in it resides the greatest power there is in this world. So few are able to access it – a good thing in a sense.
So, love, reserved only for a few. Some only experience it in the twilight zone of their lives once life has ground away the rot that must go. Some are born lights of love and it shines out of every pore from day one and grows steadily in a selfless way for all to see it unmistakably.
Requited love oh what a thing, can move mountains. Unrequited seems to turn into a horrible monster that destroys much both physical and spiritual. Oh that it could all be requited.