Love is not something you can just make. It isn’t forged of steel or extruded from decaying dinosaur remains. It is found in ourselves. The moment it happens, we know. Yet so many people force the feeling to match up with their physical desire that it all ends up lost in translation with nothing but a dead end and a satiated sexual craving.
With this new Millennium, it has brought along a new culture; one more focused on physical sexuality rather than matters of the heart. And this is not to say that I feel as if “sex” has no room in a loving relationship when in fact “making love” is a perfect example of what the act might entail. It shouldn’t just be something we throw around like a chew toy as if our heart is secondary and our body is simply a wasteland for all of our dirty deeds.
I know I must sound like a prude with all of this nonsense, and I am not here to say that “sex” is bad and abstinence is the way to go because it’s not; It’s just an form of emotional slavery instilled by too many different religions to name at the moment. But just stop and think to yourself the next time you are hovering over a beautiful queen or a chiseled Greek God that you claim to love beyond limits: “Can my love exist through all that may come?”. If the doctor says they only have months to live, or when an un-treatable disease robs them of normality or their reproductive organs were marred in some unfortunate accident (I’m just spit-ballin’ here); would you still love them the same as before? Are there emotional qualities that would keep your heart tied to them in their time of need? If you can’t truly say that you would stick behind them at their worst, then why would you think you deserve them at their best?
“True ’till death” It’s what true love should be about.