Thursday, March 25, 2010

B

Love, or thinking something is love is not an easy thing experience, or write about. Love is a lot of things and comes with a lot of complications. It is nearly impossibly for a relationship to be perfect one hundred percent of the time. No matter how good of a person the two people are in the relationship, there will always be something, or someone in the way that makes things more difficult than they need to be.

Pain wouldn't be pain if it didn't come from something significant. For example, if a relationship never mattered or reached that intense level, then a break up usually shouldn't be too much to handle. But if it were the opposite, and the relationship was considered "true love" then it no doubt would have a negative, painful impact on the two partners.

But through my experiences, you don't quite have to be in love to experience this pain. As long as the other person was an important part of your life for quite some time, almost the same amount of pain can come through. Specifically for me, it was thinking that you're in love and having both sides in the relationship say it and pretend it, while probably just hoping the constant thought and words would turn it into actual love at some point. This was painful and confusing due to how significant the relationship was to me. But the argument could also go both ways in the sense that the relationship was a significant part of my life because it was painful. So in reality both make sense, but I think "pain because of a significant experience" comes first.

2 comments:

  1. I like what you said about how the process of love is never a perfect experience. Most people tend to see the major pain in a relationship as the break-up, but this illustrates how pain can come from other things in a significant relationship. Its a strong and valid point.

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  2. What do you make of this:

    "Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. . . . When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence."

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