The Death of Love. Day 317.

Love, we all know, is a complicated, and at times, subjective topic. Since it’s not tangible or even visible, there are gray areas lingering within the definition of it, and it’s on a very wide spectrum. One thing we all know very well, is that it does not die easily, and it’s a tough beast to slay.

We do know, however, that it can make our knees weak and wobbly, cause nausea, and that it holds true, raw power. The love I speak of today is not romantic, parental, or familial, but general.

Love is not immortal in all cases, but resilient. It may go away when we “fall out of it” or if one is wronged so badly that the love cannot survive, but when a person dies, the love remains. How is that fair to the survivors?

Marvel’s Vision says, “What is grief, if not love persevering?” Of course, right away I knew what he meant and agreed and thought “aha!” in my brain, and for half a fleeing moment, it granted me with a false resolve, like since I knew about the phenomenon, it should not hurt anymore, right? I quickly and quietly remembered that it still sucked and the definition didn’t help.

So what do we who’ve lost do, then? Do we embrace certain loves’ immortality? Do we celebrate the fact that the love will not die when a person does? It seems like a type of punishment, right? It is a lifetime of persecution for simply opening our heart when life was, well, alive. How does any of that seem fair, and what kind of incentive is it for humans?

What is true, though, is that I would not kill the love I had and have with Roger if I could. Yes, it would make for a more merry life, and I may be more inclined to move on just a bit, but I love him so much that if holding onto the torment is what it takes to still have had him, then I will bleed proudly and embrace the excruciating pain until I see him again one day.