Antharmukham

Love

How do I isolate love, observe love and quantify love?

How much do you love her? Do you love her? Oh, you have been in love? Are you in love?

There were times I wished love was just a verb. Like in making love.
There were times I wished she just stayed under the blanket and had never left the penthouse.
There were lot many times when I just wished she was with me (for whatever).

I sometimes wonder and dissect to see where this love thing was or is.

Is it in the countless number of hours we spent together discussing my dogs farts to her belief in destiny. Is it under the recliner under which we have rolled too many wine bottles. Is it in the bathtub we made unlimited love warmly wrapped in cinnamon flavored bubbles. Is it in the vacuum that's created in her absence.

Is it in the dreams that we saw together. Or is it in the path we took to walk towards the dreams? Is the acting of walking together love? Is it in the misunderstanding or is it in the understanding of the misunderstandings? Is it in her bubbly bosom or is it in my (occasionally) pumped up chest?

She ignores. She cares. She loves. She loves to submit. She loves to win. She hates. She hates her hating. She cries. She laughs. She cares a fuck. She has her own life. She has her own values. She listens. She doesn't. She loves privacy. She intrudes. She looks beautiful. She looks normal. She looks hot. She looks irresistible. She cooks. She doesn't.

I wish I could blanket all the experiences, walks, emotions, my reactions, differences, dreams and acts under one blanket word called 'love'.

I wish I could be as simple as 'I love her'.

I wish I could encapsulate everything with a set of words like 'lovers','friends', 'companions', 'life partners'.

And/or, everything and all of the above.

Unfortunately, I am not a slave to words or definitions of those words or descriptions to how we should accept/reject those words. I am sometimes immune to wisdom. I am sometimes immune to convention. I am immune to 'above,below,right,wrong,should,must,is' and most abused word 'real'.

Real love. My 'love' for her is 'real'. (My urge to mate with her or my urge to go to movies with her or my urge to share my life with her or my urge to raise kids along with her somehow look not so real and somehow not so right).

I am.
She is.
We are.

We intend to be.

We promised each other that. We understood that.

I am not going to confuse this with word play.

But if you ask me, yeah, I love her. I have no doubt about that. But somehow, I love 'we are', than I love 'love'.

And there was a beautiful view
But nobody could see.
Cause everybody on the island
Was saying: Look at me! Look at me!

Laurie Anderson, Language Is A Virus