This is a question that I don't think I'll ever be able to answer. I used to think that love was that butterfly feeling I got in my stomach every time I thought about my lover, or the pride I felt in telling people about him. I came to feel that love was accepting all of my partners flaws, and working around them. Never expecting them to fix themselves.
For a while, I thought love was being able to share my lover with whoever he pleased.
Now, I'm neck deep in another relationship, and I still don't think I know what love is.
V-Day has come and gone, as well as the change to commercially prove how much I'm 'loved'. My partner and I didn't really exchange gifts, and we stayed in that day. Shared a bottle of wine, cooked my first stew and baked bread to go with it. Ended up having a fight over a pair of pants I was trying to expand, and I went to bed early. He came in an hour later, and spooned me until we fell back asleep.
What is love? Can it all be wrapped up in a butterfly feeling that disappears after a few months? Is it accepting your partner's flaws and trying to fix them? Is it simply doing whatever your partner wants, personal reservations aside?
I'm a very monogamous person. Similar to a sparrow actually, I'm loyal to my partner, but if my first love is lost, I can learn to love again. But that can't be all that love is.
But then, I can't accept the definition that love is all forgiving and happy. I look at couples that never have an argument, gush all over each other at any given opportunity, and sacrifice their social lives for each other and I just think it's sad. Or is that my jealousy speaking? Is that what love is?
My partner and I argue over stupid things. I can't remember the last time he gushed on about how much he loves me and how perfect we are together, in fact, I don't think he ever has. I have a fully active social life outside of him, although I'm always up for combining the two.
I find when I'm at school, I hope I have enough time to stop at home before work so I can see him. When I'm upset about something he's done or forgotten, I can't help but think about how sad he looks when he knows I'm upset. When I'm cleaning up the kitchen and wish I didn't have to do it, I remember how yesterday he cleaned a lot of the apartment without me asking. When I'm in bed angry and alone, how he comes to bed and pulls me close for a hug before we fall asleep.
What is love? My partner hasn't sworn his undying love for me, he hasn't promised me that we'll always be together, there's no word of a proposal on the winds. Everything that my former lover said to me, hasn't happened in this relationship. Yet, somehow, it feels so much more real to me, so much more possible then what I had before. I worry sometimes, if maybe I'm a little bit more emotionally invested, if maybe I should stop counting my eggs before I count my chickens. Maybe my love of self reliance will prove to be too much, and he'll leave me for a beauty queen who only wants to afford her next bottle of shampoo. Anything could happen, yet I'm always hoping for the best.
Anything could happen. We could go anywhere at this point. But I really just hope he lets me stay on the ride long enough to get the picture near the end.
Is this love?
