Love is by Zachary Phillips Love is a mortgage,
A debt promise of pain,
Pain paid with interest for the ones you outlive.
Love is making connections despite knowing they will be broken,
And it's the letting go of the guilt for doing so.
Love is for the small sacrifices that contain the hidden joys,
And the memory that's both blessing and curse.
Love is knowing when to push and when you must concede,
The realization that you're wrong,
And the leaving of transgressions unseen.
Love is the give and take,
The unspoken word,
The comforts freely given,
And those gratefully accepted.
Love is the discipline to say no through begging,
Pleading,
And pain,
And the careful observation of limits reached.
Love is tempered guidance,
A shot at eternity,
And the words of encouragement to try once more.
Love is a partnership,
A bonding of the muse,
A step into darkness taken together in faith.
The more we love,
The more we open ourselves to connection,
The more in debt we become.
This is a debt promise of pain that we,
Or those we leave behind,
Will have to pay.
There is a direct correlation between love and future pain caused by the relationship's ending or the person's passing.
Yet this is a contract that I would enter into time and time again.
It is the act of loving that gives life meaning.
Besides,
We are genetically programmed to love.
Our very survival as a species is predicated upon parents loving their children.
So much so that they would sacrifice themselves to ensure the survival of their offspring.
Not all parents are such paradigms of love,
Of course.
There are plenty of lackluster,
Abusive,
And neglectful examples.
Yet there are many more positive.
In the act of loving,
We realize that we are entering into such a contract.
We realize that at some later point,
One or both parties involved will suffer the torments of grief.
There is a level of guilt here.
For instance,
I hope that my children will outlive me.
Yet by outliving me,
They'll have to suffer through the losing of me.
By creating,
Connecting,
And loving my children,
I'm guaranteeing that they will suffer.
They will suffer because of the love they are receiving and giving.
But what's the alternative?
Holding back or resisting this connection would only lead to neurosis.
An infinite hole that can't be filled.
Our lives are exponentially more meaningful,
Joyful,
And whole by the act of love.
Each moment spent together is one spent well.
Even those in which we are fighting.
When such passions arise,
It comes as a byproduct of the care that we share for one another.
This is why I push my children to eat well,
Speak rightly,
Educate themselves,
And avoid excess.
I care enough to have that argument with them.
I've made mistakes.
Mistakes that cost me dearly.
Mistakes that I hope my children can avoid.
So I push.
Yet conversely,
Love dictates the embodiment of wisdom to watch my children fail.
To pick them up when they do and encourage them to try again.
All this despite the knowledge that such failures will hurt.
I must watch this process occur time and time again.
Because I know the value of self-reliance and self-efficacy.
And because I know that someday I won't be here for them.
I know that should I hold their hand through everything now,
At some later point they will fall.
And I will no longer be there.
Love is a mortgage.
A debt promise of pain.
Pain paid with interest,
For the ones you outlive.
Love is making connections,
Despite knowing those connections will be broken.
And it's the letting go of the guilt for doing so.
Love is for the small sacrifices that contain the hidden joys.
And the memory that's both blessing and curse.
Love is knowing when to push and when you must concede.
The realization that you're wrong and the living of transgressions unseen.
Love is the give and take,
The unspoken word.
The comforts freely given and those gratefully accepted.
Love is the discipline to say no through begging,
Pleading and pain.
And careful observation of limits reached.
Love is tempered guidance,
A shot at eternity.
And the words of encouragement to try once more.
Love is a partnership,
A bonding of the muse.
A step into darkness,
Taken together in faith.
It is easy to spot the faults and failings of others.
Easier still to judge,
Criticize and condemn.
But the more we love,
The more we open ourselves to another and let them in.
The more these barriers begin to fall.
The more we love,
The more we realize just how flawed we truly are.
It's in the small words,
The looks,
The laughs,
The raising of an eyebrow,
The hints or the occasional sarcastic question.
It comes when our partners firmly but gently pull us up.
Show us the mirror and say,
Despite this,
I still accept you.
Over time,
As we begin to trust those around us,
We allow them to act as a guide.
They encourage us to travel in whatever direction we want,
But subtly ensure that we do not veer off course.
That we see ourselves as we truly are,
Not as we think we are.
And if we have the courage to listen and to accept their words,
Their guidance keeps us safe.
Hand in hand,
We can embrace the future,
Knowing that together we will be accepted.
Both for who we are and for what we're becoming.
There is a give and take to be had of course.
The finding of balance between the self and the relationship.
It is folly to completely lose ourselves in the relationship.
This is a romanticized cliche that is at its core toxic.
Love is two pillars standing side by side,
Holding up the structure of the relationship.
It's not those two pillars collapsing into one another.
True,
For a while they would be closer,
But ultimately they'll fall onto one another and collapse.
With nothing individual remaining,
What does one give the other that the other does not have for itself already?
Instead,
Love is two individuals coming together,
Yet remaining as their own entities.
They travel side by side assisting,
Guiding,
Leading and following,
But never crashing together.
Yet to love is to also to pick up the pieces and to bear the extra burdens when strong,
As well as to accept the help when not.
It is acting without being asked and asking when in need.
Love is the implicit trust gained from time spent growing together.
Love is a mortgage,
A debt promise of pain.
Pain paid with interest for those who outlive.
Love is making connections despite knowing they will be broken and it's the letting go of the guilt for doing so.
Love is for the small sacrifices that contain the hidden joys and the memory that's both blessing and curse.
Love is knowing when to push and when you must concede the realization that you're wrong and the leaving of transgressions unseen.
Love is the give and take,
The unspoken word,
The comforts freely given and those gratefully accepted.
Love is the discipline to say no through begging,
Pleading and pain and the careful observation of limits reached.
Love is tempered guidance,
A shot at eternity and the words of encouragement to try once more.
Love is a partnership,
A bonding of the muse,
A step in darkness taken together in faith.
