AUG 31, 2024 | Demi Zheng
do the romance novels speak the truth?
I woke up in cold sweat.
Love is such an elusive and abstract concept. Yet these four letters hold so much power over all of us. So much so that there is a whole literary genre in its name. So much so that it is able to overpower rational thinking. So much so that some commit unspeakable crimes in the name of love. But how can a word that connotes warmth and passion and happiness bring some of us to go to such lengths to destroy others?
Is that love? The willingness to go to any lengths for somebody else? Is love when you feel as if you cannot live without the other? Is love when you cannot let go and must have her even if the one she loves is not you? Is love when you stalk his every move and keep every person who nears him away?
Is love the cuddles under the blankets, the late nights talking, the Saturday lunch dates? Is love holding her hair up as she throws up over the toilet, crying with him after the loss of a family member, bringing the other hot noodle soup when sick?
Is love giving your all? Is love taking your all?
Is love the chase? Is love the playfully running away?
How is it fair that you can fall so helplessly and deeply in love with someone else who doesn't feel an ounce of passion for you? How can you devote your entire life to someone who gave theirs away already? If it is supposed to be so beautiful, so warming, and so right, how can it hurt so much? Why is the pain unbearable?
And if your love is supposed to lead you to the one you spend the rest of your life with, your other half, how can you feel that way about multiple people throughout your journey?
Is love the best thing that happens to you or the worst? Is love a means to piece you together or tear you apart? Is love a kindling fire or a voracious burning flame?
Is all of that love? Is none of that love?
How will we ever know?
The word love often connotes a romantic ordeal, though love can exist in other forms of relationships too --- like friendships. The "platonic" or "ideal" or "perfect" love is deeply affectionate and caring without expectations of further intimacy. It's warm but not all-consuming. Some platonic bonds are stronger than romantic ones. But what happens when you start to want something more?
Platonic love is pure; romantic love is not entirely. The latter is much more dangerous and treacherous than the former. Romantic love results in desire and passion. A flame burning so high and so bright that you or your lover can crash and burn in the process.
Romance is a tug of war, an eternal dance between loving the other and loving yourself.
Loving the other is not jealousy, obsession, and delusion. Loving the other is not burning the world down to have them by your side. That is loving yourself.
The Late Republic lyric poet Catullus once wrote "Quod amantem iniuria talis cogit amare magis, sed bene velle minus," meaning "Because injury of this kind causes the loving to love more, but to wish well less." That is lust. That is loving yourself.
Loving the other is the small acts and the big acts.
Loving the other is when you wake up and see him and a unspeakably divine feeling squeezes your chest so tight it hurts because you know the whole world is in your hands. Loving the other is wanting to get up each day to make her happy.
Loving yourself is equally as important. Otherwise you may be lost and broken and left in pieces. If the other truly loves you, you will feel that loving yourself is natural. If you have to make an effort to love yourself, we have a problem.
Loving the other is loving yourself. Loving yourself is loving the other.
But loving the other is also letting go. It is sacrifice. It is wanting him to be happy with whoever he may choose. It is saying goodbye to her and respecting her wishes to leave. It is hurting but knowing that it's for the better.
They say summer is the season of passion, and, while that may be true, I want to argue that winter is the season of love. Winter is when the firey flames of desire are numbed by the searing cold, exposing the small undercurrent of affection and care and raw, raw love. Winter is when you take care of or are taken care of when someone catches a cold and burns up a fever. Winter freezes the world to give a chance for you to warm someone and to be warmed by someone. Winter is when the beauty of the Earth fades for you to see the beauty within others. Winter is love.
It may be that the love comes before the passion, or the passion comes before the love. The balance between loving the other and loving yourself is delicate and can only be maintained by mutual efforts.
I am not here to tell you how to love. All I did was write about what I think love is. If you would like to comment/add on something or if you disagree in any way, come talk to me :) <3