Babbling Idiot

I heard a quote the other day. I don't remember it word for word, but it was something like ~when someone falls in love it is then that they become a liar. It struck me to my core. Why do we consistently hurt people we love? Do our brains override all rational thought in an attempt to in some way protect this person that we love?

I guess the first question is what quantifies love? I believe in love. I have seen it happen. Someone asked me a while back if I knew anyone who was truly in love. My parents were head over heals in love with each other, and it looked so easy. I asked my mom if it really WAS easy and she laughed, for the first time in quite awhile at the mention of my father, and said, "Absolutely not, but it was worth every struggle." So is that what quantifies true love? If you look at the bad as being part of the good? Something you willingly endure for fear of loosing that one person?

So back to the idea of lying to those that we love. No one can ever be completely honest in any relationship, romantic or not. I love my child with all my heart and I lie to him, a lot. I lie to protect him. From things he is too young to understand, about Santa Claus watching his every move, to why you need to eat your vegetables. I do it to protect him, his innocence. In romantic relationships we don't see lies that way, we view it as a vengeful, piercing act.

So when does it actually cross the line? At what point do the lies to protect the other party turn to lies to protect ourselves? These lies are no longer out of love and protection, but pure survival. A method to break free from a life we don't want to live.

On a regular basis I try to evaluate what I am willing to sacrifice; financially, recreationally, and emotionally. My latest exam found I am willing to sacrifice very little emotionally. I don't know if this makes me emotionally unstable or emotionally sound. I know that I am not willing to go into survival mode. I don't want to just survive anymore, I want to live. I want to have my breath taken away by the slightest touch of some one's hand, I want to look at someone and see their soul, and I want to feel their soul when I touch their chest. Maybe I ask too much, but having been given a glimpse I feel it is possible and will accept nothing less. I would rather live free in the idea of life than in another false imprisonment.

"I want to love,
love you that much,
cash it all in, give it all up,
and when you are gone,
I want to go too"
-Heidi Newfield