By Shanti Ray
Just when I had finally accepted the fact that February is the month of love, along comes spring with all these weddings, engagements, baby showers, and births. So I can only grasp the notion that SPRING has declared itself the season of love.
Blah, Blah, Blah.
You might think that this is going to be a bitter post by the title alone, but it’s not. Trust me, I promise it’s not. It’s actually the opposite because I get extremely excited seeing and hearing above this thing called LoVe. For those who know me, you know that I am a “Hopeless Romantic” minus the fairy tales. I’m not sure where it comes from, but I LoVe the idea of LoVe. I think it’s a beautiful experience if you ever get the opportunity to experience it.
But arriving at it has always been a mystery to me.
Growing up, you grasp a perception about love by watching the people in your life (i.e. parents, family members and friends). You start to mimic the things you hear and see, and by the time you become a teenager you believe that you know a little something about LoVe because of the feelings that you feel about the opposite sex. But is it really LoVe? Do we really know at the mere age of fifteen or even twenty-five what this thing called LoVe is all about?
I’ll be first to admit it, when I first found out about LoVe I thought I had it all figured out. Boy was I wrong! Had I known back then what I know now I would have a made better choices, had a better understanding, and a better outlook on it.
My idea, my definition, my understanding has evolved drastically. It wasn’t until after I started inquiring, researching and investigating that I discovered the mystery behind LoVe.
While on my quest to uncover LoVe’s mystery I conversed with a number of people of both sexes. And I noticed that people tended to design, develop, and tweak their idea of LoVe to fit their own personal agendas. Now this had me quite puzzled. My first thoughts were: Is this fair? Is this right? Is this what LoVe is all about? If it is, then I want no parts in this. This is not the LoVe that I want. This is not how imagined LoVe to be.
Just when I started to give up on my quest to find LoVe because I thought for sure it had forgotten about me, it happened. LoVe showed up at my front door packaged in an unusual package. One that, had I not been paying close attention, I would’ve passed by because it wasn’t what I was used to.
It didn’t look like the kind of LoVe that I was familiar with.
LoVe’s mystery is no longer a mystery to me.
The Hopeless Romantic