What's Love Got To Do With It?

Is the goal of a relationship always "love"? Does that always have to the desired end result? Can you just skip over the love part and still do happily ever after? Or better yet can't you be just happy for the now?

Dammit. What's love got to do with it anyway?

We toss around the word "love" like it is salad dressing. I LOVE that movie. I love your hair. I LOVE those jeans. I know that I say it all of the time. Love. Love. Love. Here's the thing. The girls and I are not allowed to say "hate", because I feel it's too strong of an emotion to use on such things like, MEATLOAF. So at our house, we are stuck saying "strongly dislike" instead of "hate". Yes mom, I strongly dislike the meatloaf. So. We can't utter the word hate. But love? Tossed around here like crazy. Love. Love. Love.


So maybe in my mind because I am surrounded by this LOVE thing all of the time, I wrongly assume that I need to experience it outside of the girls and I. Okay, so maybe with the Zen-like man I really did truly believe that I loved him. But maybe I just thought that it was time for me to love? (Like some Tick Tock Love Clock or something?) Maybe I simply strongly LIKED him and mistook it for love? Maybe two other "L" words, "loneliness" and "lust" tricked me into thinking I was in love? Hmmm.

But I remember the first time I said it to him. "I love you, Zen-like man." And he looked horrified. Which is never a good look when discussing the finer points of love, eh? Sometimes I wonder why all of the red flags didn't hit me squarely in the face while I was dating this man? Or maybe they did and I ignored them? Nonetheless, he looked horrified. And we all know once the words are spoken...they are out there. There are no do-overs. I love you. Kidding. I don't think it works that way. Don't get me wrong, I didn't shout them out in a moment of passion or anything. Because we all know that that is way too easy. Sure, sure, sure. When we shout it out then, we ALL know what we really love. But I digress.

I told him I loved him and he looked horrified and slightly nauseous. Wahoo.

Love. At 43 years old, it's a damn tricky thing. I wrote a piece once called "The Snoring Dog", all about learning to love again. Yeah, it was about Abbey, my Boston Terrier, but Abbey was written as a metaphor for love. Learning how to love after a failed marriage. But, the funny part? When it was published, not many got the metaphor. Maybe that was my fault as a writer? Maybe I wasn't clear about the love stuff, because I still didn't know about the love stuff? (For me? Can't write about it unless I know it.) And when it was published they edited out the opening line...which I shameless stole from the Beatles.

"And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make."
The Beatles

I love that line. I love that line because it's true. I love that line because it's beautifully written. I love that line because it speaks to me. And everyone knows I love the Rolling Stones more than the Beatles. Yeah, don't get me started on that tonight, it's late.

But here's the thing. You can't take love if there is no love there, right? You have to give part of yourself to take part in a relationship. It isn't all about the giving. And it certainly isn't all about the taking.

And how could I want to love someone who certainly didn't have love to give me?

So. Maybe all of the writing about love isn't like experiencing the love. Perhaps there's a reason why my opening line was edited out of The Snoring Dog? Love. A very tricky thing. I can say that I will guard myself against getting hurt again, but who really knows what will happen? I can promise never to fall in love again ("and so for at least until tomorrow..." Damn, who doesn't love Dionne Warwick?), but that could just be a lie. Or I could just keep loving my girls, and myself (the jeans, the movies and the hair) and not worry. Hmmm.

Because what's love got to do with it, right?