Something that is not love

When I saw you

I fell in love

and you smiled

because you knew.

One particular day Shakespeare wrote those words – for one of his masterpieces. But did Shakespeare himself really know  the real meaning of those very pure and simple combination of words? One could ascribe artlessness to the writer. Are these words really containing everything that could describe a hard terminable force everyone is seeking?

You could call those words perfectly to the point. Or you could call yourself a helpless romantic. I don’t want to start discussing the meaning of this insolent one word that seems to reign over all of us because everyone desperately longing for it – some maybe only addicts in what way soever.

I think love is a manipulated notion constructed by our brains, respectively, our needs for security. We need to be sure that the person close to us will stay, preferably without considering that there might be no eternity in this respect.

Most literature that deals with love is actually emphasizing something different. To my mind most stories represent something more mighty and fragile at the same time. They show us moments, fragments of THE. TRUE. FEELING.

A feeling that is not only honest and true, but truthful because it only exists when nothing can be taken for guaranteed. Most narratives or dramas expose two people existing together only on a border. Regardless, whether it is a social, psychological, or environmental one. The truthful feeling arises only when we are about to lose something precious to us. All our inner forces are asked to fight against the opponent ones. Such as nobody every forgets a war our memory in our heart will never forget this one fight.It will shape us mostly for the rest of our lives.

Is any kind of love able to carry that kind of intensity through out such a long term? I doubt it.

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