Long before man applied reason to his thinking, he tried to think of ways to describe the indescribable. As our primitive relatives, Ug and Thora, sat in their cave, Ug probably compared his feelings in Thora's presence to the elation he felt tearing meat off a bone, or wallowing in mud. Modern man's version is not much closer. .
Comparison is still a favorite tool when defining love. My love is a rose, a summer's day, a smile. For the rejected, love is pain, a storm, a dying flower. Similes and metaphors flood angst filled teenage poetry, and the more reserved work of our elders. But how accurate can a comparison be? Love is not a rose, or we could all own love for 36 dollars a dozen. If love were a summers day, lovers would be sweaty and sun burned. And if love is a smile, what about the people with bad teeth? These likenings are more the echoes of love, the aftertaste, leaving only the impression of a wonderful experience. .
Others try to define love with rules or standards. "Love is unconditional. Love is giving. Love is unselfish. Love is not arrogant, and does not insist in its own way, It is a celebration of what is right. Love is Honesty. True love never ends." The list goes on, and often contradicts itself. Could you tell an abused wife her love should be unconditional? Should a husband really answer "Do I look fat in these" honestly? Confining love with rules is like defining when a joke is and isn't funny. What affects a person, what touches a person, is completely relative. .
So why does man spend so much of his life trying to summarize an idea hundreds of centuries long? Maybe it is precisely because he can't. The temptation of the unattainable. It is something all men do at some point, and I suppose now it's my turn. In terms of comparisons, love, to me is an unspoken understanding, known completely through actions. Love is half smiles, touching her leg while driving, seeing her face when she sees me outside.