(no subject)

[ofnovalue]

From: Anonymous
Date: April 17th

I know this may seem like such a trite and of little worthy regard given all that has happened over the last several weeks, but truly, I am a fool who has allowed their thoughts to be consumed with but one thing when I should be focused on my service here. Forgive this, and my fool's heart, but I feel as if I can no longer simply let this fester in my mind.




What does it mean if the very idea of love brings naught but profound pain? The sort that makes your chest ache tremendously, and your mind to burn as if buried in embers. When the very idea of it inspires tears, and no happiness can be found?

I can find none who know this pain. Am I damaged in some way? Is my mind and heart corrupted by a sort of blight we know not of?

Comments

[ofnovalue]

That seems quite damaged, to be frank.

[cloakedinruins]

How so? Love is an emotion that is hard enough for most humans to judge and understand, and it is so easy for love to change into resentment or hate or disgust. People who have had their love broken by family and friends often times will feel wronged and, especially if the betrayal is strong, will not recover to feel anything but pain.

Love can be one of the most pure of emotions, but that makes the fallout from it even worse.

[ofnovalue]

But that is only if this pain is an association with a memory that I cannot recall.

What if no such memory exists? What if this is simply part of who I am? That I am meant to suffer?

[cloakedinruins]

We don't know. It might be a flaw in you, but it also might be a painful life memory you do not have in this world. Assuming just the one would cripple you, I would think.

But. Let's try this exercise first: Have you found things that you enjoy? Are there foods you favor over others? Colors? Flowers? Do you find yourself liking certain times of the day more, or enjoy doing a task?

[ofnovalue]

This seems a bit silly. It's not as if I am incapable of feeling fleeting moments of superficial happiness. Of course I have favored foods and colors and flowers.

[cloakedinruins]

How so? Happiness comes inside of love as does unhappiness. Sometimes you can reach something better than love which is contentment with yourself for that moment in time. Love might be talked about as an ideal, but there is no 'one love'. There are the little loves - for friends, for little moments of pleasure, for oneself.

[ofnovalue]

I cannot find argument with your philosophy, however I equally cannot find aid within it. For me, the love already exists, and cannot be dismissed in favor of smaller favors, nor the pain that it brings.