I have to say, the fact that an argument about love and its flaws has sparked such response is telling on just how much our society takes an interest in the subject. But that is another topic altogether!
The range of opinions, to this point has been the heartbroken diatribe on the pains of great passion Mist shared, Kevichella's opinion that appears to land somewhere in the middle, both accepting the pains and trials of love to suggesting it has its wonderful moments, and Tip's desire to suggest that the flaws found with love come mostly from youth and lack of experience. What we have here is a failure of definition. We have love as a grand passion that is consuming, we have love as pain and joy that is chemically based. We have an enduring commitment that is challenged by the everyday but continues. Yet nobody has proposed a definition of love that all agree to.
Love means different things to different people. The English language is lacking in specificity. Whereas latin proposes multiple words, we are left with one to encompass so many things. And so, we are each left to our own interpretation based on societal expectations and experience.
The claims of love songs may be extreme. I admit that to survive I probably need more than love. But can we survive without it in any form? What about the love of friends and family? Or love of a deity for those who do hold such beliefs (yes, smac972, I'm giving you an out)? Human existence without human bonds, to whoever or whatever they may be, is a rather sad place. Some live that way, intentionally or not, but I think few are happy that do not hold some sort of bond to someone or something.
Now, equally we must raise the question of whether the love songs Mist offered might be classified in the category of interpretive art rather than factual testimonial. To give such a hearty critique, be it on the issue of love's having merit at all, or simply to a sense that the sentiment is merely misguided youth, points the finger at the sorts of critiques that I think many of us would hate of our own work. Where does creative license fit? Where does emotion or passion, or even just the feeling of a moment? Are all the things we write, based on a notion of creativity that does not, as far as I know, require that creative products stick to utter factual nature or avoid hyperbole, to be held to this standard? I have to say, I hope not. Language can be an expressive outlet as much as it can be a tool for factual communication.
As for love, well. So many quotations and lyrics, so much poetry and so many stories have been written on the subject. To argue for some overall conclusion is a bit presumptuous. To say that one's own experience and view should be taken as applicable in all situations is likewise a bit much. I have loved, I have lost. I have mistaken obsession or lust for love. I have suffered the pains and the apparently overwhelming heartbreaks. And I have found the enduring sense of commitment that will carry on through all the menial details of the day. So I say love on. I say let yourself experience what you are willing to experience, learn what you are willing to learn, and never deny the same to another. I say never judge the experiences others may have had, at the same time. Perhaps Mist will never find a quiet love that is built best in silent companionship. Perhaps Kevichella will continue to follow the sine curves of ecstasy and depression. And perhaps Tip may not have again that all-consuming love that burns too brightly and shatters you at the end.
And perhaps I will never find what I seek. But do not deny me the chance to love by calling it all shards of glass meant to cut, or chemical imbalance, or youthful folly. For it is all of those things to different people. And to me, love is hope, connection, willingness to risk, and taking joy in finding someone who will kiss you despite morning breath. And I shall continue to do it all.