Love Songs
I feel that a humongous chunk of my life is missing from this blog. The last post was from June--maybe even May--after I started my (no longer) new job. Now, three--four, maybe even five--months later, I feel also at a loss for words to describe those months. I had started a post several weeks ago, and an hour into writing, got distracted and left that window open on my computer for two weeks, only to finally close it out later, admitting defeat to laziness in tandem with busy-ness. It isn't that I've forgotten details about my monthlong travels through Asia or my weeklong experience at Camp Ronald McDonald for Good Times. It's that, after so much time has passed, all of wanderlust-ful, awe-inspired ooh's and ahh's of travel and all of the magical, heartwarming moments of camp have passed. While I can still imagine particular encounters and occurrences, it's hard to trigger or evoke the precise emotions I felt or expressions with which I reacted--the very things that I told myself I would write about once I got back from wherever I was, whatever I was doing.
So, here I sit on a stool of a tall table in Starbucks, in a feeble, sleepy, and sniffly attempt to write personally for the first time in too long. A while back, I spent a considerable amount of time thinking about love, particularly how it's portrayed and expressed through song. Artists/ singers often make it seem like loving somebody is easy.
"All of me loves all of you?" Easier said than done. Everyone has "their things" that make them hard to love. Committing all of oneself to love all of somebody else is such a dauntingly grand gesture--promise, really. I don't believe I can ever love absolutely all of anybody: part of me wants to justify that by pointing at the other person and his/ her imperfections that I cannot just ignore. Another part of me acknowledges that it's probably one of my defense mechanisms preventing me from full vulnerability, holding me back from giving my absolute all to somebody. On top of that is the expectation that that somebody will reciprocate--what a perilously presumptuous thought! "Give you all to me, I'll give my all to you"--what else can you then give to other parts of your life? If you've given something your all, can you give anything else your all, if anything at all? How much can one love and how much can one give?
"How can I give you all of me, when all I get is half of you?" This lyric used to resonate very much with me, because I spent--and continue to spend--so much time giving myself to people who didn't always reciprocate. I didn't necessarily give my all, all the time, but I gave enough to eventually begin to question relationships. In any case, it's always been one of my emotional fears that, after giving my all and loving with my all, I'll get only a portion--if any--of that back. And then I'll probably feel like everything I put forth was wasted effort. Valid fear, right? Because who doesn't want to be given to and be loved to the same extent they give and love? Granted, there might be a handful of people who don't give or love with expectations of receiving--but that just isn't me. And I wonder, between "all of me loves all of you" and "give you all of me... I get half of you," which is the better/ more accurate model of love?
"Love don't cost a thing" is a lie. Even notwithstanding the financial woes of dating or any type of relationship, love costs time, effort, emotions... The price to pay for love is emotional vulnerability, first and foremost. You have to open yourself up and share your life, and be open to the other party's as well. You sacrifice things you do or want to do, you might lose touch with people in other social circles, and so on. And when arguments and heartbreak come around the corner, that's at the expense of your well-being, happiness, and sanity. Love costs--a lot. But that's a negative vantage point. Because if you just want to give and you just want to love, then I suppose J-Lo is right--love doesn't cost a thing, if you really want to invest yourself in it and don't have an absolute need to get anything back.
Certainly, love songs abound, but the first two were stuck in my head for those weeks of contemplation, and the last was just a last-minute addition.
So, here I sit on a stool of a tall table in Starbucks, in a feeble, sleepy, and sniffly attempt to write personally for the first time in too long. A while back, I spent a considerable amount of time thinking about love, particularly how it's portrayed and expressed through song. Artists/ singers often make it seem like loving somebody is easy.
"All of me loves all of you?" Easier said than done. Everyone has "their things" that make them hard to love. Committing all of oneself to love all of somebody else is such a dauntingly grand gesture--promise, really. I don't believe I can ever love absolutely all of anybody: part of me wants to justify that by pointing at the other person and his/ her imperfections that I cannot just ignore. Another part of me acknowledges that it's probably one of my defense mechanisms preventing me from full vulnerability, holding me back from giving my absolute all to somebody. On top of that is the expectation that that somebody will reciprocate--what a perilously presumptuous thought! "Give you all to me, I'll give my all to you"--what else can you then give to other parts of your life? If you've given something your all, can you give anything else your all, if anything at all? How much can one love and how much can one give?
"How can I give you all of me, when all I get is half of you?" This lyric used to resonate very much with me, because I spent--and continue to spend--so much time giving myself to people who didn't always reciprocate. I didn't necessarily give my all, all the time, but I gave enough to eventually begin to question relationships. In any case, it's always been one of my emotional fears that, after giving my all and loving with my all, I'll get only a portion--if any--of that back. And then I'll probably feel like everything I put forth was wasted effort. Valid fear, right? Because who doesn't want to be given to and be loved to the same extent they give and love? Granted, there might be a handful of people who don't give or love with expectations of receiving--but that just isn't me. And I wonder, between "all of me loves all of you" and "give you all of me... I get half of you," which is the better/ more accurate model of love?
"Love don't cost a thing" is a lie. Even notwithstanding the financial woes of dating or any type of relationship, love costs time, effort, emotions... The price to pay for love is emotional vulnerability, first and foremost. You have to open yourself up and share your life, and be open to the other party's as well. You sacrifice things you do or want to do, you might lose touch with people in other social circles, and so on. And when arguments and heartbreak come around the corner, that's at the expense of your well-being, happiness, and sanity. Love costs--a lot. But that's a negative vantage point. Because if you just want to give and you just want to love, then I suppose J-Lo is right--love doesn't cost a thing, if you really want to invest yourself in it and don't have an absolute need to get anything back.
Certainly, love songs abound, but the first two were stuck in my head for those weeks of contemplation, and the last was just a last-minute addition.
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