Something I find myself thinking about far more than I should is love. Then again, can one really think too much about such a powerful force? It shaped history like none other and even God likes love so much that he equated Himself thereto. Maybe my thoughts are spurned on more by the fact that I have been on the lesser end of love, rather than the greater end. I should say that never have I lacked love from my God, my family, my friends, my community, my team, my teachers, etc. If anything, I sometimes feel as though the Almighty might have dealt me unfairly too much love from these wonderful people. The thought process is, "Maybe someone else needs or deserves this love more than I do?" The average person would spring into action and quickly curtail my questioning soul and let me understand that this is a destructive thought process.
I suppose more than anything in this life, our beliefs about ourselves and the world around us, shapes us and our worlds. Love is fundamental to the human experience. To live therewithout is not to live at all. Whenever, therefore, we start to doubt the love that is already within our lives, your average person would try and upend those thoughts long before they start to manifest and fester and inflame and infect.
Yet, as I indicated before, I thankfully lack not in the caring variant of love, what I do lack is the romantic, the companionate love which 90% of all literature, entertainment and art is devoted to exploring more deeply. I make this common knowledge in my conversations with others, but, at the time this essay is published, I, as 21 year old heterosexual male, have never been in a relationship before. I know not the lips of another. Is this situation brought about entirely by one factor? Nay, for all of life is interaction. By this I mean that in every conceivable situation (except mathematics) there is more than one explanation as to why what we behold is at it is. I am single partly due to lack of salient opportunities, partly due to fear, partly due to perceived inability, partly due to perceived unworthiness, partly due to idealism, partly due to romanticism and partly due to commitments to being the best I can be for the person I am to, hopefully, eventually share love with.
I have that unique vantage point (which, frankly, all of us have for a large part of the initial stages of our lives) of not really knowing the depths, the feasts and the famines of romantic, companionate love. As is human nature, one tends to ponder much about things which one has not, unless one comes to acceptance and absolution of the situation in question. Clearly, I am not in acceptance of a lack of love. When Wilde pens "The curves of your lips rewrite history." I am driven to the power and effect that a kiss can have. When The Perks of Being a Wallflower delineates that "in that moment we were infinite" I desire to feel, to experience this sense of mortal immortality. When Grey's Anatomy questions love, "'I'm afraid it's going to destroy me.' 'It's not love if it doesn't.'" I am intrigued and enticed to know more about this immaculate force that has the ability to conceive and create human life, but also seems to destroy it as readily. When U2 and Bono sing, "I felt the healing in her fingertips." my soul almost lusts after the touch of another that can potentially obliterate all my fears and anxieties in a such a simple gesture.
Being without and being constantly told what it is to be therewith, one cannot help but be desirous of being therewith. Will I stay in my stay perpetually? I do hope not, but what I hope even more than being relieved of my lack is that I may be relieved in God's Good Time.
Love is what I want. It is what all who tread this Earth want, for it is hard to argue against something that is felt so strongly - such is, has been and always will be the story of love.