I am neither the first one nor the last one speaking about love. For centuries, humans have mentioned it in their poems, waged wars because of love, and built nations on love. Though immaterial, the human cosmos would vanish without the fabric of love.
Or are we exaggerating?
Machines run without the need for love. Love has always caused trouble and pain for those who were courageous to follow it. Many perish themselves and try to stay sober even to endure its aftermath. Something of disease, perhaps?
Or are we amplifying?
I cannot speak about the past love when people live through it. Perhaps on a farm or a rigorous school desk, trying to hide their love from the cold mistress. In their caves, cooking? Or in their masked balls? Behind the queen's eyes.
However, In my era, it seems love behaviours which are directed away from one's family start in school life. Initially, the loved ones are "ideal" or "modal" persons. They usually lack any sexual element. Such love could be called friendly love.
Then, in later ages, usually with adolescence, fiery loving appears. A person cannot breathe when they see their loved ones. Usually, introverts live a significantly amplified love. They cannot risk losing their passion, and they typically try to decrease the stimulation. On the other hand, extroverts are burned, but they also want to burn the responsible. They collide and do their best to make other people resonate as well. Their love pikes and plummets, it seems. But introverts can carry it for a very, very long time—usually more than necessary.
It changes a person if they are not neglecting the call of love. Usually, love stories do not have happy endings. One side loves the other more, which creates an imbalance. If this difference is too big, then the relationship is detonated by the immense potential difference it contains. The explosion injures one side while the other barely sees slight smoke. In Greek, people cursed their enemies by saying they shall fall in love; that is not bidirectional! The biggest torture for a soul is to wait to be loved back by their love. They could wait for an eternity, knowing each day they were dying and withering. A withered rose blooms with melancholy, never to be picked. Some say death is better than this unanswered love. I can only hope you will never test this by fate!
When you see the love in the person's eyes, you feel sad for the person. The fire inside of him is growing and roaring. You could predict he will be burnt by it, leaving ashes and knowing he is not a phoenix. You feel sad for your friend. The cost of a sensitive friend is she spreads that pain, too. Only through miracles do fires unite and form an eternal fire that will shine and heat for a lifetime. Some others can even live in the north without lumber or a heater, thanks to their bright love.
Not any two couples will be blessed by love. Only a limited lucky portion will. Once one tastes that and they would surely wish for love rather than the most incredible lottery ticket.
Love is beyond blue and gold, black and green. May you find love and also be found by it. For those who have, no other wish will ever be a wish.
When love comes outside of fiction, there is nowhere to retreat. You are in a losing game. Either try to run away or face it.
Initially published for Polyhedron on 9/9/2022
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