L-O-V-E

I'd like to dedicate this blog to my Maphew and to Bernd Jurgen Brandes. I haven't always been good at resisting my desires. But thank you for agreeing to be dinner, in your own way.

So much attention is given to love in all its many forms that I think we often forget what it really means. Perhaps most of us fail to see it clearly at all. Love is: strong affection for another, warm attachment, devotion, admiration, unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another, or so says Merriam-Webster. I think most would agree with this definition. I, however, have always found it very difficult to relate to or share in the enthusiasm of so many seasonal rom-coms or heart touching Hallmark sentiments. In fact I've been very public about my cynicism, even on this forum, in expressing a general distaste for the institution (as I saw it) of romance and relationships all together.

"Is she jaded? Who broke her heart? "

Do me a favor and fuck off. I spent a lot of analytic hours on my assessments and feel they served me well in their time. Of course since I've gathered more information I've been forced to re-assess my prior conclusions, proving once again that you should never jump to nor slowly make your way to any one conclusion because the data can always change. In my defense, I wasn't completely incorrect, I just wasn't completely right. My latest hypothesis is that above all you have to accept this "devotion and unselfish loyal and benevolent concern" from the object of your affection or its really just emotional masturbation. Nobody is going to believe you love them if you get your emotional spunk all over them. So this Valentine's Day I'd like to offer a nugget of wisdom that I've gathered from my limited and sordid experience. If your lover knowingly lets you emotionally spunk on them they don't love you, they hate you.

Also, and maybe most importantly, you should never ever slay and eat someone unless they are truly and fully willing to be slain and eaten.