I wrote a post about a year ago called Love, talking about just the beauty of Love, or what my concept of it was at the time I wrote it, and how everything else I wrote about on here in this dicks-in-motion brain dump of forced orgasms and pat-myself-on-the-back gobbledygook really all is just secondary at best to that very concept of good old-fashioned Love, intended with a capital L.
Had I written it today, it would have been much more powerful, and it was the most powerful post I had ever written at the time I wrote it.
So consider this Love Part II – True Love.
But since I am a smart ass, and I love the Princess Bride, we will call it “To Blave”. Now if you don’t get that movie reference, I am sorry to be the one to inform you, but your movie appreciation sucks nuts. Anyways, what the fuck was I saying? Oh yeah…
True Love, or To Blave.
Love is an interesting notion, wouldn’t you say? Unlike other emotions, there really is no definition, even to ourselves. It redefines itself through time in our lives, in each relationship where we find a new level that was far past what the old definition was.
Hold your kid for the first time and tell me you ever loved something that much; you’d be full of shit. I recall those days and still get watery eyes.
So one day you ask yourself have you ever experienced Love in the power you saw in movies like the Princess Bride, but for a woman, or man I guess for all you ladies reading this, or gay men I guess…God, this sentence is never going to end; look at me being all inclusive and shit. I think I deserve an award now for my humanitarian-esque vowels and consonants. Anyways…
What I mean is, that debilitating wipe-you-out-can’t-think-of-anything-else-you’d-be-more-than-happy-to-prove-your-weakness-and-you-know-you-look-like-a-total-fucking-pussy-but-you-really-don’t-give-a-fuck-what-people-think-because-you-know-deep-down-this-shit-doesn’t-happen-twice-so-you-run-at-it-with-all-you-got kinda Love.
Professing your passion for her in every subtle or not so subtle way, in her ear, in her eyes, in her head, while inside her, or on your dicks-in-motion-gobbledygook-brain-dump blog for the entire fuckin’ world to see and judge you but once again – not really giving a fuck.
So did you ever feel that raw, crawling out of your skin, mutual vulnerability, equal reciprocation, ugly sides on display and seen by the other as beautiful, can’t get enough, missing you within five minutes kind of Love?
My answer always was “eh”, until you Kitten.
Also published on Medium.