I lost my hearing today – only for a few hours, luckily. And I sat thinking about what it must be like to live completely deaf. One adapts.
We are always so scared of deafness, blindness, paralysis, the deterioration of the body. But everything we are so afraid of is actually not as terrifying when it actually happens. When we lose someone we love, we think we’ll never get out of bed in the morning. When we lose one of our senses, we think we’ll never survive.
But this survival is a concept that needs a longer post. I need to think about survival, and what it means. I wish there was a course we could all sign up for: Survival 101. And once you pass the course, you’re set for life. Then again, we’re never really set for life. Perhaps that’s the miscalculation right there. It’s all random.
I probably should make friends with Randomness already. As an individual, I have always been so predictable, so consistent, and yet everything about my body, and how I react to it, is random and inconsistent.
Real intimacy. Real, mature love, is the desire to be with the person you love because you want to. Not out of guilt, pity, a desire to control, possess, or to prove something. I am constantly fascinated by how people express love, and lack thereof.
It doesn’t make any sense when you claim to love someone yet constantly hurt them. And hypocrisy does not fit well with love. To love, you must first honor yourself, and honor your lover’s heart. To humiliate and destroy them, in the name of social pressure/society – that can only be utter selfishness.
I wish people who loved actually understood that love does not obey rules. It does not seek acceptance. It finds its home in hearts, not in fancy houses, big publicized events (wedding ceremonies), and it certainly does not facilitate power struggles. You only learn to love maturely when you recognize the infinite power in human vulnerability, and you embrace it, respect it, and solidify it.
Those who Run away, the Abandoners, are constantly lagging, never catching up. Maybe their hearts cannot handle big, crazy, endless love. I think it’s a waste to have a heart beating, when you continue to dishonor it.
I love you. Those three words are a promise. They cannot be hurled at anyone. And yet words and bodies are sold to the highest bidder. The desire for desire and love is dying, while the struggle for power thrives.
What happens when you fall for someone who is still in love with someone else? Why isn’t there a manual yet? Why do we deny the inevitable? I know it’s always heartbreak. It’s always excruciating pain. And yet I never run away. Today it hit me. I must be a masochist.