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This is my adopted goth fetus named "Cringe". Hooray fetus!
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| Do I know you? |
| 02.26.06 (5:57 pm) [edit] |
Who are you?
Do you think I really know? Exactly how much information do I have about you? Whether I like you or not does'n matter. I might say that I like "you", but what is really going on is, I like what has been presented to me...nothing more. This brings me back to the issue of love.
I am not saying that it is impossible to love. I suppose we might go right to the root of defining the word "Love" itself.
"A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness."
I guess I should clarify, before I get going here...I am NOT questioning my love for my child. I KNOW that I love my child with a fierceness that cannot be matched. I KNOW my daughter. I see her every day. She does not offer pretenses toward me. She is what she is, and the love I have for her is unconditional. It is when we get older and learn to decieve that this discussion comes into play. I believe that once that happens, some mothers do not love thier children. Likewise, some children do not love their mothers. I know this first hand.
So, JIM...if that is indeed your real name. Or should I call you JIMMY? James, perhaps? I have a right to my oppinion without your injecting your dumbassedness. So, unless you can back up your insulting comments with something intelligent, I will just delete them and you can find someone else to bully.
BEEEEOTCH!!
Continuing...
No matter how well you think you know someone (except your children, JIM!!), can you ever really know them well enough to love them? How can one truly love what one does not know? And how can one accept that declaration as true, while understanding that they are not really known?
So then, the words "I love you" become only a token, intended to make a person feel known and less alone. But how many of us blindly accept this potential falsity without giving it any real thought? (Evidently, JIMMY does!) How many of us recognize it for what could be and refuse to be deluded by it? How many might actually feel badly about being told that they are loved? Because deep down, you know that the person saying these words doesn't really know you, and therefore the words "I love you" are now meaningless for you. Perhaps you might even realize the hypocrisy in your reply when you say it back, if you should choose to, or feel obligated to do so.
So what does this do to the psyche of the person who has dwelt on this issue and realized the possibility that no one can truly love another, because no one can ever really, truly know another?
How does a wife-beater feel to have another person honestly believe that he is a gentle person? How does a murderer, who got away with it feel, when someone tells him that he has a good heart? Disbelief. Distrust. Guilt. Discomfort. Anger, perhaps? Perhaps he might do something to reaffirm his self concept and attempt to guide you to the correct conclusion.
The perceptions of people around them do not confirm their own identity, and therefore cause anxiety.
How can you trust the judgement of someone who sees you as someone that you know you are not? But then, there are other forms of love.
For example, I love ice cream. But ice cream is not holding any secrets that I don't know about...or does it? What if I were to find out that ice cream contained arsenic as a secret ingredient and the company responsible hid it from the world? Well then, I would feel pretty betrayed and distrustful of ice cream in the future. Then I realize that, the whole time, I loved what ice cream presented to me...what I knew of it at the time. Can you trust, then, that you ever really truly loved ice cream? Or did you just enjoy the taste?
How is a person supposed to feel when they are told that they are loved by someone who has only met them a few months ago? Should you just trust that they do love you, even though all they know of you is what you've chosen to show them?
Perhaps it is unwise to realize that no matter how well you are known by others, we all still have our secrets; and no matter how many others we surround ourselves with; no matter how many people declare their love for us, we are ultimately alone.
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