True Love (without quotes)

Hokay! So I realised that in my last post, I talked about how quoted "True Love" is not very true. I didn't exactly finish all I had to say on the topic and I realised this after reading aloque's comment to that one (ty, guy). Now I'll go on about what true love without quotes is (to me).

Roses, notes, candlelight dinners, necklace road walks (huh? What? Did I say that?) are all fine, but that cannot go on and on. And that is basically courtship, not love. It's just a honeymoon, not the whole of the marriage. It cannot go on when you are 45. Not all of the time. Well, some people do it, but if someone did that to me, I'd ask him what's wrong. I mean, necklace road walks at 45??!!! Get a grip! Bye bye neclace road walks, hello arthritis is more like it.

Love is when you get up at 6 in the morning to take HIS dog out for a umm... call of nature thing, when he's laid up, even though you hate the mutt because it hogs all of his attention so much of the time. (He never pets you like the way he pats the mutt when it gets his newspaper first thing in the morning. I mean you don't exactly expect him to pat you, but here we're talking about the bonding, you know? If YOU give him the newspaper, he just grunts. The bloody dog knows how to get into his good books, huh? (Well, some people ARE jealous of dogs, ok?! It's allowed. And it is NOT abnormal. And it's definitely not pathetic. It's not funny either. STOP LAUGHING. It hurts. Wait till it happens to you... Humph!) Anyway, the dog's vet bills are more than your beauty parlour bills and everytime the hair shedding season happens, YOU are the one who gets down on your hands and knees brushing the carpet. You wish you could gladly mix some deadly poison in the dog food which that mutt has every morning and evening in the monogrammed dish... Sigh. I could go on and on about the dog, but that's not exactly what we're talking about here.) So, what I am saying is, love is when you take the bloody mutt (translated - sworn enemy, other camp), out for its poop walk in the morning when he is sick. ('He' is the loved man, not dog. Dog is referred to as 'it' here. Stupid inanimate thing. It's not like it's human. Why should it be afforded respect?) So, ahem, back to topic. That is love.

Love should be comfortable. It should not be a show-off. It should not be doing something just because you are expected to do it. It should be something you are doing for the other person because you want to. Small things. (No, small things does not mean buying her skimpy lingerie). Regular things. (Yeah, think 'flannel nightgown'. Why? Because it's soft. And it's not for you, it's for her.)

Love is telling her that you do not feel like shaving (and "would you do it for me honey? Please?" Woohoooo! *shakes head to get THAT image out* End of dream... ahem... *blush*) ...*blinks* where were we? Ahhh yes, so love is telling her that you feel too bloody lazy to shave and to expect her to understand. Love is telling him "Sweetie, it's one of those headache times" in bed and not having him go mean on you a whole week afterwards 'cos you hurt his ego.

Small things. (Geez! You're still in Bikiniville? Get a life! *rolling eyes*) Everyday life. It gets real. It gets dreary. Day after day living with a person. It's so easy to forget what you loved in the other person in the first place. Love is NOT forgetting those things. It's appreciating your partner for all of the stupid quirks (s)he has, and enjoying those.

It's not swooning everytime you see her (well, might happen if she is wearing those skimpy things you insist on giving her, and all your blood rushes from your head to your nether regions), but well, you know what I am getting at? No, you're not? You mean I'll have to write more on this? Sigh. Well, ok. Love is not a 100 bucks worth of roses or even a 1000 bucks dinner at a posh place, love is more like helping her wash the dishes or kneading his shoulders when he has had a bad day.

The rosy, mushy, goody-goody picture is what I am against. Sure, it might be there (M&B get their material from SOMEWHERE, so somewhere there must be some people who are the red roses, staring into eyes for hours type). But all of those movies and romance novels are misleading. Love is more low-key, more real, AND more powerful, more lasting than all that amateur fluff. It might start that way, but it settles into something more usual, something which is more comforting rather than a take-your-breath-away feeling.

Well, I am at the end of this post now 'cos I'm tired of typing, and I'm wondering if I said all I had to say on the subject, and if I said it the way I want to, whether it means what I want it to mean. Well, hell. I don't know. If I haven't, I'll just have to say it again, won't I? :D