So, I'm going to go more sappy here and less cynical for a moment. This post will also not be about politics or clothing or anything like that. Rather, I'm going to wax poetic for a bit.
So, the other day I was having a good conversation with my good friend Jesse Luciani (Great guy, ladies. Careful, though, he's taken.) about what it truly means to love. Now, I've been a perpetrator of the sappy, idealistic, puppy love rampant in teenagers and only slightly less common in adults. I've gone on and on about love and how "painful and haunting" it can be. Yeah, I've been that guy. But here we were talking about real love for someone. The kind of love that would cause you to forfeit your happiness, or your life, for the happiness of another. In our selfish world, this idea seems so foreign that it doesn't bare thought at all. Now, I do not pretend to be a scholar or an expert on movements of the heart, but I do know a few things about what love is not. Love is not obsession or ownership. Many seem to think that love is a claim you have on a person, that you own them and they owe something to you. Such is not the case. Love is given fully and without compensation. When you give a person your love, they owe you nothing. No, not even their love in return. They may give it, but don't be under the illusion that because you love someone, they MUST love you back. No, they don't. Love is the unconditional caring for another person above and beyond yourself, not the possession of that person. So, Jesse and I were talking about this philosophy, and we came to two of our favorite stories on the subject. Or, rather, two embodiments of this idea: Sydney Carton and Rick Blaine. In Casablanca, Rick Blaine is suddenly and unsuspectingly reunited with the woman he considers the love of his life, only to find she is married. Of course, a love triangle ensues as Ilsa is still torn between Rick and her husband, Victor, a resistance leader and fugitive from the Nazis. But Rick, despite his love, not only lets Ilsa go, but MAKES her go with her husband, knowing that he can never be happy with her and that Victor needs her to keep up his fight. He gives her up for her own happiness and for the greater good of humanity. In A Tale of Two Cities, Sydney Carton goes even further. He loves a married woman, one who does not love him back or even know of his love. So, when her husband is about to be killed, what does he do? Carton replaces him in prison, giving his life for the husband of his love. He gives his life, gladly, for the happiness of the woman he loves, even if that happiness is without him.
Now, I'm not entirely sure what I'm trying to say here, and I'm certainly not advocating giving your life for just anyone because you think you may love them. That's not at all what I'm saying, but maybe this will give some perspective to someone out there, and maybe give some food for thought.
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