“The Misunderstanding”
When one hears the word love, what is the first thing that comes to mind? For most it would be; a mother, father, friend, relative, even a pet could be tied to this word. Now what about falling in love? Almost everyone would think of a significant other. There are exceptions. Some fall for art, their work and even sometimes food, but that is another issue.
Love is such a commonly misused and misunderstood word. People have unreal standards and expectations for it. It is almost always set to the standard of Shakespeare’s classic, " Romeo and Juliet." Two people find each other through what seems to be fate's will. Their eyes meet in a crowded room, as two rapidly fluttering hearts seem to dance to the same beat. They meet with eager smiles and the world seems to fade away. All that matters is how beautiful the other looks, as they gaze into each other’s eyes. Though the moment is always lost, cut short by the cruel laughter of reality. They spend the rest of their days thinking of each other and the painful what if, until they meet again. They share the magic of the first kiss and fall head first into the wonders of love. Then almost as beautifully as it is tragic, one's life is ended all too soon. The other, remaining on earth, is so heartbroken, that they choose to end it, rather than spend another day without them. Thus preserving their love forever inside the walls of time. This is all well and beautiful. Everyone hopes that one day they will find their Romeo or Juliet, but has anyone ever wondered, "What if neither Romeo nor Juliet had died?"
Could their love have withstood the test of time, or would it reveal their whole connection as infatuation? It happens to everyone at least once in his or her life. You meet someone. They're smart, beautiful and seemingly everything you want. Then time takes the new away. It exposes the feeling you mistook for love, for what it really was, a false connection made by the right settings at the right time. Those butterflies pass and you are left with the choice.
You can choose to either, stay and commit or head for the hills. The words falling in love, themselves, presents that it is a choice. If love is the metaphoric hole that you fall into, then how do you get back out? You can't fall out of a hole; there is nowhere else for you to go. You have to make the choice to climb back out, just as you made the choice to allow yourself to fall in.
The choice to love is very similar to the choice to be religious. In Christianity, one has an epiphany, if you will. They decide that there is more to live for than just themselves, so they choose to give their life to Christ and commit themselves to doing what is right. Baptism is the next step in the choice. It is a public ritual that declares your decision to all those that might look. It is the same with love. After you have been with someone long enough to let your guard down, you may have an epiphany. You realize that this person is important enough for you to trust and that you want to live for more than just yourself. You choose to open up and commit your life to that person and their happiness. Marriage is the next step. Just as Baptism is a public symbol of your faith, marriage is a public symbol of your love. It declares to everyone that you have chosen to live for each other and honestly care enough to spend the rest of your lives together. I have had my own problems with understanding and mistaking love.
It all started when I was in the eighth grade. I was positive I had fallen in love. I met a girl and spent everyday thinking about her. I spent the next two years wishing that she could be mine, even if only for a day. I got my chance in my sophomore year of high school. We dated and it was great, at first. I had gotten the girl of my dreams, but now what? After a few weeks I got to see more and more of her, until I finally realized she just got on my nerves. It was the infatuation of wanting what I couldn't have that drove me to her. It was only when I got what I wanted, that I realized that I didn't want it anymore. Later, I met another girl. She was a few years older and knew a bit more about love than I did.
I met her through an educational summer program. She understood that love wasn't something that just magically happened. It was a bond that was established through trust and time. I told her early in the relationship that I loved her, but she wouldn't do the same. It became an obsession with me to make her fall for me. I had forgotten why I had even told her what I had. All that mattered was her loving me. I eventually wore her down. She told me she loved me and she meant it. It was fun and new. We both said it, and it felt good for a while. Then, one day, I realized I was getting tired of her. I had said the words that meant commitment, but I never did commit. I eventually made up some lame excuse to blow her off. She was heartbroken. I never really understood what I had done until a later relationship.
My last major relationship pulled together and shaped how I viewed love. I went into that relationship just like I had any other relationship. I wasn't really looking for anything, but I was more cautious with what I said. She fell for me a lot faster than I did for her, just like the girl before. Only this time, I wouldn't say, "I love you." If anything I pushed her away. We were together six months and I still wouldn't tell her I loved her. I just didn't feel it. I was looking for the Romeo and Juliet connection. That's how I thought things were supposed to be. Then, we went on spring break together.
We went to Maryland to visit family she had there. It was a great vacation. We spent a lot of time together and grew a lot closer. We went to the beach and walked on the piers till sunset. Everything was great, until the ride home. We got about thirty minutes onto the interstate, then WHAM!! An 07' Cadillac slammed into us from behind. All I could hear was the screams of my girlfriend, then nothing. We flipped three times and hit a tree. As we rolled, I closed my eyes, but could still feel everything spinning. I finally opened them, when we came to a stop. I could see everything upside down. The top was crushed in, but the only window that broke was the back glass. I saw my girlfriend and her mom still hanging upside down in their seat belts, and then finally I could hear them again. I tried to ask them if they were okay, but nothing would come out. I realized that not only could I not talk but also I couldn't breathe. I kept trying to breathe, yell anything, but nothing came. The seat in front of me had slammed into my ribs, taking all of my air away. Finally, with all I had, I forced out a scream. We were trapped inside the car. I could hear on-lookers outside, some scared, others intrigued. Finally someone busted out a window and we crawled out, through the dirt and glass. When the EMTs finally arrived we were all sitting outside the wreckage. They tried to hold me down and put me in a brace, but I wouldn't let them. All I could think was, "Is she ok?" They finally allowed me to sign a waiver, saying I understood that by waving my rights to be treated that they wouldn't be held responsible if I was injured further by the ride. They told me if I was internally injured, that a certain movement could paralyze me for life. I didn't care. All that mattered to me was seeing her. I had to know if she was ok. They let me go with her in the ambulance and I held her hand the entire ride to the hospital. When we got there they separated us again. We each had to go to separate wings of the hospital. The whole time we were away from each other, she was all I could think about. Was she still okay? Was she scared? Did she need me? Then suddenly it dawned on me. My god, do I love her? When did I open so much of myself up to her? It had happened without me even knowing it. My heart made the choice for me, without telling a soul. I had let her into my head and now there was no denying it. I trusted her and now there was no reason for me not to love her. The nurse finally discharged me, because I wasn’t seriously injured. As soon as I signed my papers I headed at almost a sprint to the other side of the building to find her. It took twenty minutes and five nurses, but I finally saw her. My heart stopped in my chest and all I could do was stare. I ran up to her and took her in my arms. It was everything I could do, to not break down and cry like a small child. I told her I loved her. She was who I wanted to be with, no one else. Things went great after that. We were really happy together and spent almost two years together. Then, it seemed just as I did the girl in my past relationship, she did to me. She one day just decided that she didn't love me anymore. Maybe she never did to begin with. Maybe she did. Who knows?
That is the beauty of love. It is a choice. It can't be forced, nor kept by your own will. It is given by another and can be taken away at anytime. That's why it is so precious and sought after. It is misunderstood and misused constantly, because everyone wants to hope that they've found it. When they realize it's not something you find, they'll be fine. It is something that is given. Just because you don't fall madly in love when you first meet means nothing. It took me sixth months and a near death experience before I gave my heart to someone, but that doesn't make my love any less than that of Romeo and Juliet's. At the time, I would have died for her myself. I made that choice to devote myself to her as I did to devote my soul to Christ. Now it is up to me to climb back out of the metaphoric hole that I allowed myself to fall into.
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