Fished out of the blogdrive post, "And I love her, crooned McCartney."
"I'm on the way, sayang."
Are these not mere words, I ask? For, by the gods that were, that are and that will be, yes, they are. But what of the feeling and thought it provoked? In me it inspired the very realization that I love her.
No, not none of those carnal loves lovers desire, nor is it the so-called puppy loves of the children who are no longer children and yet not adults.
No, it's pure love. And how do you know it's pure love?
You know that it's pure love because you have no yearn to please her, no urge to be with her. You know it's pure love for you don't feel it tarnishes if you spend your time with everyone else but her, you don't despair the thought of not ever seeing her again. It's pure love because you simply adore her, because you accept her being or lack there of with all your soul.
When she's not there, you might think you yearn for her, you might think you regret not spending time with her while you could but deep down inside, in the darkest core of your soul, in the most private part of your heart, you know you do not yearn, you do not regret. That's why it's pure love. It requires no effort and extract no punishment for your devotion.
I'm talking about my mother, you sons of sows and daughters of dogs! Banish thy evil thoughts from thee and thine!
How often do you realize that you love your mom, that you really love your mom? Not so often, I guess. Not like this, at least. I have always felt the obligation to love my mom and I guess this is my first time I really feel like it.
