LOOOOOL…You have to forgive me. I don’t know which is funnier: the fact that Lade asked me to write a post on love or that I know next to nothing about what she has asked me to write about. Seriously. ME. LOVE? WHY? I think this is a deliberate attempt to ruin what’s left of my almost ruined reputation. Wait jor, before you start asking why I didn’t just politely decline, I’ll have you know that ‘Lade is one of the people I truly respect, young at heart and age but one who holds much promise and… *runs out of persil* So yeah, I had promised a post and since I am a man of my words, here it is.
Disclaimer: This post is being written under severe conditions, there is no light here and this affects my thought pattern. Do NOT question the relationship between NEPA and my brain, I don’t have the power to answer right now (do you see what he did here). The opinions stated in this post are mine except when they are going to be used against me, then I shall plead insanity and not know what you’re talking about. Having said all these, you may proceed. Remember though that the things I shall spew on here is/are the truth, the whole truth and….yeah you know the drill
LOVE… you are probably expecting me to give some dumb Oxford dictionary definition of the term but asides the fact that I have NO Oxford dictionary, I can’t really be bothered to seek a definition. It has been said in time past that love is “a feeling you feel when you feel a feeling you’ve never felt before.” I daresay, this holds true for your first running stomach, your first punch in the face, your first ‘heart break’ and plenty other things so that definition is BLEH! In business, we are taught something interesting, it’s called the “unlearning process” Here you “unlearn” the things you know to create room for the new knowledge. I might not know exactly what Love is but I sure know what it isn’t. Lezgooo…
Love is NOT a shopping trip to the palms garnished with a lovely meal and a movie afterwards. While this is a way of expressing it, it does NOT define it. Fortunately or unfortunately, some interpret outings as love, they weigh a persons ‘love’ for them on how often he can buy them stuff, take them out, meet their needs etc. This is synonymous with the womenfolk mostly. The day you tell that chic “baby, from this day henceforth, no more shoprite,” that most probably will be the day she will tell you of how she has known siiiiiince that you don’t love her.
Love is not sex. Yes Yes, its not. I’m sure we’ve all heard the “if you love me, you’ll let me sleep with you” line. You haven’t? Where were you when your mates were wasting valuable hours of their lives watching Africa Magic? You must have heard it somewhere jare, stop forming posh. Anyway yeah, that’s bull. Sex has never been a proof of love, in its purest form; it ought to be the seal on a marriage, the bond that joins a man and his wife. If Love is sex, don’t you think prostitutes would be the most loved people on earth? Huh? huh?
Love is not calling her all day. Wait! Don’t shoot me yet. I’m just saying. Has someone ever owed you money real bad and you were down to your last? In fact, you have more credit on your phone than you do money in your account. You pick up that phone and call that nig all day err’day till he pays up. That don’t mean you love him right? It’s necessary for people in love to maintain communication, however they deem fit, however I put this here not to rubbish the communication channel but to let us know that if he stops calling you as often as he used to, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you anymore, ever reasoned that his funds might be depleting or he’s probably busy? People that say “hmmm…this one that you’ve stopped calling me often, who are you calling now?” THEY. ARE. THE. WORST.
Finally, Love is NOT a feeling
Let me attempt to now share what I think love is with this story…
Long time ago when men were boys and women were girls, in some city in London, there was a man who worked at an overhead rail road. Now his job was unique; it involved pulling a lever to make the rail tracks align when a train approached. The tracks when apart would cause a train to derail and plunge into the sea, so his was a job that required the utmost expertise. Our railman had a 2 year old son he loved so much, his only son after 15 years of marriage. He cherished the boy and often took him to work daily while his wife was away picking cotton with the other ladies. On this day, he had drifted to sleep at his watch tower and was jolted to consciousness by the familiar ‘horn’ of an approaching train, Time to lower the tracks. He sleepily trudged to the controls and in that same instant heard another sound; the cries of his son. He looked out of the window and saw his little boy had got his feet stuck in the rail tracks a great distance away. The train kept coming unaware of what lay ahead, the child kept screaming, there was no way he could reach the tracks in time and return to pull the lever. He had to choose; The lives of about 150 strangers on that train or the life of his son on the tracks. A tear dropped down his cheeks as he pulled the lever…
Our man didn’t even know any of the people on that train yet he gave that which he loved and cherished just for their lives. People who didn’t even feel a thing as the train crushed the body of his son. People that probably never knew what happened not to talk of saying “thank you” Our man didn’t do it because he ‘felt’ for them, he did it because he realised that love is SACRIFICE.
Familiar story right?
When you get to the point where you can let go of that which means the most to you NOT to someone who likes/loves you back but to one who doesn’t even give a shit about you, then you know what love is. Love is not as easy as we think it is, it’s deep. It hurts. It’s hard yet don’t get it twisted, Love is a beautiful thing.
It’s don ja…
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Footnote: erm…… Posted by @homeschooldnerd. Jor via lade tawak. (I just had to say something. :p)