l o v e … what does it mean
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
“Is love a fancy or a feeling?” both.
From a young age girls, especially, are taught through tv, films and books that love is the physical being of prince charming. saying nothing against my true love, Disney. but there is n unrealistic perception us girls have from the age of four years old. watch cinderella, snow white, beauty and the beast or the little mermaid and we automatically believe that sudden, love at first sight kind of love can exist.
I know this makes me sound bitter, especially on a day where love is celebrated all over the world, but I believe this is an issue.
From the age of eight, I remember picturing myself at the age of 16. Thin, beautiful, popular with lots of great friends and a boyfriend. You never think at the age eight that you are anything but unattractive, and our physical appearance will guarantee you love.
we all want love. love from others and love for oneself. but to gain that we must find happiness. but does it last?
love. it doesn’t have to be just about your partner. it can be about your love for your family, loved ones, friends, lost ones, your favourite things: the love for chocolate, flowers, tea, cosy sweaters or summer breeze, beaches, tans, colours or autumn, candles and new stationary. Valentine’s Day, is the day where theses things are celebrated.
The measure of how important love was/is in your life, I believe, is the grief that may follow the loss of it. That is the true measure of love.
This is the scene at my sister’s wedding. She’s getting drunk, regretting that she got married for the third time. My mom’s sprouting snakes from her hair in jealousy. It was perfect …We’ve got three feminine archetypes: The divine whore, Medusa –
and me. What archetype am I?
The Virgin Mary?
No, the faithful handmaiden. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.It proves what Jung said all along. Myths and archetypes are alive and well and living in my apartment. As I stood beside the altar beside my sister and her husband to be, it struck me that this ritual, a wedding ceremony, is the last scene of a fairy tale. They never say what happens after. That Cinderella drove the prince mad by obsessively cleaning the castle. They don’t say what happens after because there is no after.
The be-all and end-all of romantic love was … Mike?
– You have sex on the brain.
But it wasn’t always like that. The 12th century had “courtly love”, which had nothing to do with marriage or nothing to do with sex. The relationship between a knight and lady of the court who was already married. And so they could never consummate their love. They rose above “going to the toilet
in front of each other” love, and went after something more divine. They took sex out of the equation, leaving them with a union of souls. Think of this. Sex was always the fatal love potion. Look at the literature of the time. All consummation could lead to was madness, despair or death. Experts, scholars and my Aunt Esther are united in one belief:True love has spiritual dimensions, while romantic love is a lie. A myth. A soulless manipulation. And speaking of manipulation …
It’s like going to the movies and seeing the lovers kiss, The music swells and we buy it, right? So when my date kisses me, and I don’t hear strings, I dump him. The question is, why do we buy it? Because, myth or manipulation, we all want to fall in love. That experience makes us feel completely alive. Our everyday reality is shattered, and we are flung into the heavens. It may only last a moment, an hour, but that doesn’t diminish its value. We’re left with memories we treasure for the rest of our lives.
I read, “When we fall in love, we hear Puccini in our heads.” I love that. His music expresses our need for passion and romantic love. We listen to La Boheme or Turandot, or read Wuthering Heights, or watch Casablanca, and a little
of that love lives in us too.
So the final question is: Why do people want to fall in love when it can have such a short run and be so painful?
– Propagation of the species?
– We need to connect with somebody.
– Are we culturally preconditioned?
I think it’s because, as some of you may already know …While it does last, it feels fucking great.
~Mirror Has Two Faces; Barbra Streisand
But remember the opposite of love is not hate. It is indifference.
“The greatest thing you will ever learn is to be loved and be loved in return.”