I have missed you! We are keeping the (non-existent) news to a minimum because this itchy ape is at it again. Grab a cuppa and snuggle into a rocker. There is a chifferobe full of snuggly blankets. It is nippy.
Even the zombies have vacated M3 in my absence. Apparently, the plate of brains I left out was spoiled. Meh. Until I have a confirmation on my new diagnosis and some prognosis, my appearance will be sparse.
Yes, this month’s flash is delayed. Rather than coming out on the first, as it has historically, it will go live on the 28th. My apologies especially to fans and newbies. Get excited for them! There are some new writers for this book!
Right Turn, Clyde!
As Hallmark Day approaches, all media is buzzing with hearts and ads for flowers, chocolates or gifts and sarcastic memes from everyone who thinks it is ludicrous to have a commercial holiday named after an atrocity, a series of martyrs or bees (depending on your location and religion). Clyde has an appropriate level of disinterest in the affair.
So what is on the cranky orang’s mind? What is love not? That is right… NOT. Everyone and their brother has inundated every mode of communication with what love IS. Let’s discuss what love is not.
Me, My, I
The first and foremost thing love is NOT is selfish. Love never asks,
What have you done for me lately?”
Love is not interested in what it gets out of a relationship because love is its own gift. In love’s search for fulfillment, it seeks to give, to serve, to affirm, to touch, to comfort, to share, to enhance, to compliment, to complement and to uphold, all without expectation of restitution.
Love does not accumulate. It does not collect trinkets, keep score or expect anything. No matter how much or little is given to love, it responds with gratitude, even when it does not understand the gift.
Its closets are not full because it gives of itself, its resources and its time.
Love cannot be bought. Money means nothing.
Love cannot be measured with any known scale. Love does not hoard accolades and blushes when it is noticed.
Love is not overbearing. It does not force adherence to rules, compliance with ideology, likeness. It does not deny company or employ the silent treatment to get its way. It does not use guilt. Love does not pout.
It cannot remain where it is unwanted or unrequited. Love is willing to take the highway if it means happiness for its object. Love does not issue ultimata. It does not hide from adversity, discrimination or persecution. It does not run away.
Love ignores convention. It flies in the face of tenets contrary to its nature. It knows no limits. For all its strength, love cannot hold a grudge.
It refuses to be contained. Love has no idea what “too much” means. It overflows into the cracks left in souls grown barren and parched in its absence.
Love does not hurry, even when it sweeps people away. It does not demand change, even though it changes everyone it touches. It does not cut corners because it is happy to take the scenic route. Love does not walk around the elephant in the room.
It will traverse the globe where there are no roads, waterways or clear paths. It does not file an itinerary, set an ETA or follow a schedule.
Love appears when it is least expected and where society frowns on its presence. It cannot understand borders.
Love does not take a day off. It does not rest. It is neither consumed in passion’s fire nor dream’s light.
Love does not lie. It cannot conceive anyone would lie to it because it epitomizes trust and belief.
Love does not put faith in failure. It cannot fathom anyone would forgo it.
Love never gives up, even when the odds are infinitesimal. It holds on until the smoke stops curling after the flame is extinguished. Even in the darkness, it does not die. When it is cut to ribbons and exsanguinating, it does not die. Lying shattered, it does not die. When it has given its all and received nothing in return, it still does not die.
It fades to a shadow of itself and remains in the corners of the mind, the hollows of the heart and the fugue between slumber and consciousness.
Love refuses to burn in anger; instead, it shines in the mists of disappointment, rejection and dejected sadness, hoping to light the way back to happiness.
In kindness, it is not rude, abrasive, Sadistic or cruel. When its object desires pain, love does not withhold such shows of affection.
It does not protect itself from pain; for in the offering of kindness, it seeks to sway the barbaric to docile civility.
All species engage in exhibitions of love in at least one of its incarnations. Without being able to articulate what love really is, everyone can define what love is not.
With an emotion so ubiquitous, how can anyone contain its celebration to merely one day or assign its application to single dates of interest?
It is enough to make an ape wonder.
Until the next time the ape takes the reins,
What else is love not? Is there another concept you define better with what it is not? Have a beautiful weekend.
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