When you love someone, let them go.
If they come back, they’re yours forever.
If they don’t, call them up drunk the next night.
It might be true, that they are really out there. Those clouds. Pearly luminescent love. Wisps and shiny cotton wads of earth’s most natural of resources. Lightly skimming and sometimes enveloping. They float around the world wrapping around unsuspecting you’s and me’s. Most of us know they are out there only because we’ve been wrapped up in them before. When you are wrapped up with love it is a warm lustrous fog. And love, like normal clouds, look solid and separate and of their own entity from the outside or from a distance. But when you get near one, you learn it has no defined boundaries and that it’s an intangible, wonderful and refreshing fog. And when its thick you can’t see a thing. It might be true, that they are really out there. Those clouds.
People don’t meet because they both wanted to rent the only copy of Waiting For Guffman last Tuesday, or because your friend’s sister has a friend who is new in town, or because the cute girl in the black spaghetti strap top at the party last year couldn’t stop smiling because she noticed that you couldn’t stop staring. Sometimes people just meet, and sometimes they just happen to meet in a love cloud. It might be true, that they are really out there. Those clouds. And some people are lucky enough to bump into each other in their mist and swirl.
When and where we fall in love only seems random because the movement of love is just as sporadic as that of normal clouds. Right now there is one at the South Kensington stop of the Circe Line, another thick cloud is near a small lake at Minnehetti sports camp in West Virginia, and there are wisps on the fifteenth floor of Mutual of Omaha building in Salt Lake City. It might be true, that they are really out there. Those clouds. And we unknowingly walk into their fog. And we don’t fall in love with each other, we just fall in love.
You didn’t really expect it. Two weeks ago you shared a bottle of wine at the bar. You exchanged light conversation at first, but after a couple of glasses you both got braver, and gave each other gentle hints as to how you feel. What made you angry. What you miss most. What you want now. Something was accomplished, maybe it was just a little communication. But you both walked away from each other feeling better than you have about yourselves, and one another, for the past couple of months.
“Lets meet for dinner on Thursday, just to catch up and hang out.”
The Twelve Chief Rules in Love:
1. Thou shalt avoid avarice like the deadly pestilence and shalt embrace its opposite.
2. Thou shalt keep thyself chaste for the sake of her whom thou lovest.
3. Thou shalt not knowingly strive to break up a correct love affair that someone else is engaged in.
4. Thou shalt not chose for thy love anyone whom a natural sense of shame forbids thee to marry.
5. Be mindful completely to avoid falsehood.
6. Thou shalt not have many who know of thy love affair.
7. Being obedient in all things to the commands of ladies, thou shalt ever strive to ally thyself to the service of Love.
8. In giving and receiving love’s solaces let modesty be ever-present.
9. Thou shalt speak no evil.
10. Thou shalt not be a revealer of love affairs.
11. Thou shalt be in all things polite and courteous.
12. In practising the solaces of love thou shalt not exceed the desires of thy lover.
A couple of minutes ago I had my first communication via email with Sabrina in a long while. It was cold, distant, unnecessary and mostly lacked real substance. But still, for some reason, it increased the speed of my heart and turned my stomach a little bit. I’m so tired right now. I got little sleep again last night. Time is going so slow this afternoon. I’m going out to dinner with pops again tonight. I’ve been spending a lot more time with family lately and it’s been really nice. My Mom, Dad and Brother have all been so supportive. I really need them right now too. My brother is inviting me out with him all the time. My mom asks me how I’m doing all the time. My dad calls me every couple of days just to see how things are going for me. A special thanks to my incredible family, I love you.
Happy overdone, unimaginative, consumer-oriented and entirely arbitrary, manipulative & shallow, interpretation of romance day.
Love, another infinitely important concept lost to a holiday wrapped around commercialism, consumerism, and (gasp!) cynicism.
Every year The Onion prints a wonderful children’s valentine day special. It includes adorable, cuddly little valentines to cut out give to your special little someone. Here is my favourite:
Update: Sorry lovers, the pictures have since been removed.
I caught Sabrina on AMC last night. It seemed fitting for the times so I stayed up late and watched it all. I miss you Sabrina, wherever you are. This quote from the movie seemed especially appropriate:
Bonjour, mesdames et monsiuers. Yesterday we have learned the correct way how to boil water. Today we will learn the correct way how to crack an egg. Voila! An egg. Now, an egg is not a stone; it is not made of wood, it is a living thing. It has a heart. So when we crack it, we must not torment it. We must be merciful and execute it quickly, like with the guillotine.