What is Love?

Most people would say, "It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all." But looking at my past, I really don't think that is the case. People who are hurt and damaged who don't love themselves can not truly love others. They can feel infatuation, lust, obsession, what passes for love, but what they think is love isn't really love.

And that's the truth about me and my ex.

But looking back at what we once shared, from the outside looking in, most people would say what we had was "Love". While we were together, he swore he loved me, and I swore I loved him. And we both meant it – fervently.

But the evidence wasn't in favor of either one of us.

Love doesn't disappoint, take for granted, verbally abuse and deliberately dupe another person. Because that's irritating, disrespectful and ultimately devastating.

Nor does love cling so tightly to a fantasy and a dream of the future that it completely dismisses another person's reality. Because that's unrealistic, disrespectful and ultimately life-strangling.

In lying and breaking promises to eachother continuously, we proved we did not love eachother.

We both experienced love as a noun: an indescribably good feeling, the object of the verb making.

We didn't experience love as a verb, with all the selflessness that it entails. He didn't love me enough to show up, to support my dreams and aspirations, to want what was truly in my best interests. I didn't love him enough to be spacious, to let him be him, to hear what was always being said under the surface.

We both did the best we could, based on who we were at the time, and we both called it love.

Then when sugar-sweet love turned to vinegar, we both fled.

I still don't know what true love is, but I definitely know a whole lot more about what it's not. And that's a good lesson and a good start.

My Body Never Knew Such Pleasure, My Heart Never Knew Such Pain!

As I was driving and listening, to “All Cried Out” by Allure earlier today, it got me thinking. Why is that always the case with us women? Why can’t our body’s know such pleasure, without it having a negative effect on our heart. Shit, if men can think with their penises, why the hell can’t we think with our vaginas? Why is it so easy for us to make love but so hard for us just to fuck? What I’m referring to is the kind of fuck that doesn’t involve love. Just a raw no strings attached lustfully driven fuck. Keyword: lust, not love. Making love is great too but, they both have their role, sometimes you want to be all mushy gushy with all the trying to please your partner stuff, and other times you just want to dig in your claws, let your inner freak take control, and fuck like there’s no tomorrow. Men see sex as more of a recreational activity, kind of like basketball, while most women see it as this sort of close, personal bonding experience.

Wouldn’t we just perform so much better in the rest of our lives if we had a shameless fuck here and there to relieve our pent up sexual tension?

So, whats the problem?

Is it the fear of getting pregnant or contracting an STD?

Or, is it the double standard in our society, the fact that a man can go sleep with a whole brothel and he gets applauded and referred to as “THAT DUDE” but a woman sleeps with two men without a commitment and she’s labeled as a smut/whore/bird?

Do we really just care too much about what other people think?