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According to many books, poems, and movies in this world, you cannot quantify love.
According to many books, poems, and movies in this world, you cannot quantify love, cannot measure its intensity and cannot bring to scale its meaning with logical parameters and sound arguments.
The social construct would like us to believe that “Love” with a capital L, is untouched by those earthling things, love is supposed to be abstract in the sense that you cannot measure it, visceral in the sense that you cannot tame it and free because you may never be able to kill it when someone truly feels it.
From childhood to my twenties, my personal idea of love evolved in a very dramatic way. Loss and grief would do that to you; break your illusions, leave you breathless and knock you off your feet. After a while, You will try to get up and walk but you’ll soon realize that you can’t do that, not easily, not like before. So you will learn how to crawl.
As a young woman, my idea of love has not changed in five years. While being in love has a different feel to it, love itself is always the same sensation to me, my body is possessed by light and I never get used to it. It ruins me, it empowers me, I loathe and love it by turns. I don’t always understand it or accept it but I always feel it.
And that light? That light has degrees. That light can be quantified. That light can be measured.
Because that light always comes with darkness.
When the shadows of your partner’s cruelty are slowly drowning your light, can you still call it love? How much can you give to your significant other without dimming yourself? A quarter? Half of you? All of you?
Cheating, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse… is it still love when you forgive, forgive, forgive even when it hurts, hurts, hurts? Is it still light when you hate yourself but love him or her? When you carefully keep your heart and your eyes closed? Or is it something else?
The things we do for blue skies strips us of our strengths, our courage, and our self-esteem. It leaves us being little more than animated objects, tools of pleasure, of labor… whipping boys and girls.
For blue skies, — futile and fugitive moments of happiness, genuine smiles and affectionate caresses, we give and give and give until there is nothing else to give but everything for the other to take.
For blue skies, we lie to ourselves first and foremost and we turn pure love into abnegation and abnegation into nothingness; For blues skies, we don’t remember love. We don’t remember the light. We live in the darkness.
Sometimes, the only way to escape the darkness is to give it up. Give up our blue skies. Sometimes, there is peace in the clouds, clarity in the storms and understanding in the outpouring rain.
Yes, we can’t quantify love, we can’t measure it, we can’t bring it to a scale. What we can do is feed it with courage, maintain it with self-empowering changes, strengthened it with self-honesty.
This is my call to all lovers, this shatzi is for you.
🙏
Word of the day
Picture of the day
Song of the Day
“Blue Skies” by Strays Don’t Sleep
It’s been a long year
Since we last spoke
How’s your halo
Just between you and I
You and me and the sad lights
I never believed you
I only wanted to
But for all this
What did I miss
Do you ever get homesick
I can’t get use to this
I can’t get use to this
I’ll never get use to this
I’ll never get use to it
I remember that night
I’m under those same stars
We’re in a red car
You asleep at my side
Going in and out of the headlights
Could I have saved you
Would I have betrayed you
I wanna burn this film
You along with those pills
What you couldn’t do I will
I forgive you
I forgive you
I forgive you
I forgive you
For blue blue skies x15
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