Enduring Love

Unfortunately, this is not a post about the Ian McEwan novel -- nor of the quite lacklustre film adaptation.

Instead, while talking to my therapist last night we somehow got on to the topic of love -- in the round about ways our discussions tend to have. Wholly and entirely unrelated to any concepts of love specifically, I told him how I sometimes worry that my presence in other people's lives will be a negative one -- and especially so if they like me.

I told him of the feelings of discomfort I've had in previous relationships where I felt the other person liked me more than I liked them, and of other relationships where I've been let down gently because they just didn't care for me enough.

It seems like sometimes we have ideas or expectations for what we think we should be feeling in a situation, and it for me at least it can get in the way of just living in the moment.

I remember however-many hundreds of years ago when I was dating Fiona and sometimes feeling like a phony because I didn't think I felt as strongly about her as she did about me. Similarly, San and I broke up any number of times when one or other of us would decide we didn't feel strongly enough about the other person to be in a relationship.

My therapist made a very strange comment about how he didn't really believe in "love" -- I expect he meant the "chocolate boxes and roses" red lace cards sort of interpretation of love. He said something like how do you even define love anyway? Far from being stumped by this question, I'd actually given the whole subject a lot of thought in the past when I have loved, been loved, and thought I loved various people.

I define love as a passionate affection.

It sounds quite simple, but the words to me have a depth of meaning. For example, passionate can mean several different things all at once -- it can mean sexual as well as an intensity of emotion, and very subtle nuances all in between. This definition applies to the many different kinds of love I can feel -- I can say that I love my brother (despite our difficult relationship), that I love my parents. I also love my cat, love my friends and in the past have loved certain individuals. All of these I would say were passionate affections -- each in subtly different ways, but no less deserving of the title of love.

Years ago when San and I were going through some sort of difficult period, we broke up when she said she didn't love me, or wasn't sure if she did. That was when I went away and tried to define love, came across the "passionate affection" definition and suddenly had a revelation. I realised that through nobody's own fault, the passion had gone for her -- there was just affection, and that wasn't enough. On similar occasions I'd tried to argue that I thought she did love me, even if she didn't define it as such -- but not then. Other times, San would counter the argument with one consisting of didn't she deserve to feel love -- to find someone she loved. There are no counter arguments to this.

The last time we broke up it was again because she didn't love me, and although she had been telling me she did for a little while, she hadn't meant it for some time. It seems funny that some people would never dream of faking an orgasm would tell you they loved you when they didn't.

My therapist mentioned that he'd been married twice, approaching now his third marriage. I asked when you marry someone don't you promise to love them? Seems a little odd to marry -- three times, at that -- and not mean it when you say you love them. Which is why I think it's the romanticised, Valentines sort of love he was talking about.

Either way he helped me to get some of my previous relationships and friendships and everything in between into a better perspective. I think the general argument was stop over-thinking things and lighten up (even if it was never phrased as such). Getting hurt is perhaps the only guarantee you have -- but it doesn't negate the whole thing. You can't stop someone else from being hurt, you take responsibility for yourself and your own feelings -- and so should they. This responsibility also means you can't stop someone else being hurt, so don't sweat it.

He showed me that so long as you don't deliberately set out to mislead or hurt someone else, you can only be yourself.

And from there, just let the chips fall where they may.



I also had a discussion with my therapist about blogging, but I think that deserves a post all of its own.