What (the hell!) Is Love?

What (the hell!) Is Love?

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

I think it's a legitimate question. We all experience it, but none of us knows what it is. Other emotions, fear, jealousy, anger, and the like, aren't so elusive. But love? Now there's an emotion that will make you feel like an eagle, soaring over mountains, valleys and fields of green pastures. Conversely, it can also make you feel like you've just fallen down a flight of marble stairs. Ah yes, love! So much has been written about it. I wish I had the greats of poetry, those immortal wayfarers of the violet verse, here with me, now, at this very moment – I'd like to kick them all right in the teeth.
You may have noticed that I'm a bit, shall we say...disquieted with regard to the realms of romance. There's a very good reason for this. Hmmmm, now let's see, what, pray tell, could that reason be? How about a small hint in the form of a question: Whenever a guy is hostile toward the idea of love, what's the usual reason? You guessed it – a #%$^#&% woman!
For those of you who have followed my column over the year or so it's been up, you might detect a slight cynicism in my make up when it comes to women. The gentler sex, or as I like to call them, demons in human form, have a tendency to not only take the male heart and pummel it like a prize fighter's speed bag, but also, to do similar things to the mind as well.
If you're wondering why I'm waxing, pissed off, I received a call from a voice of the past and it sent me into a spiral (just when you thought it was safe to go back into the water).
Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I had a brief affair with a woman who, unbeknownst to me, had a rigid loyalty to her boss, Satan.
But I jest.
No, to be honest, she was really a sweet girl, fun and full of life, and with a body that made my teeth hurt. Seriously, she made Venus De Milo look like Yasser Arafat – at least in my opinion. To make a long story short, we had another affair, many years after the first one, then broke it off, and now everything's getting back to normal. Or rather, it should have been getting back to normal.
After the second affair, after we called it quits, she decided to call me.
You know, it's funny how a woman can call an old lover, after a mutual agreement to not, and just laugh and joke, and make cute little witticisms, with not so much as a hint of discomfort. And of course, I'm sitting there, trying to sound cheerful and happy-go-lucky, but all the time I'm plummeting into oblivion and grinding my teeth to nubs.
Before she called, upon refection we had decided that it would be best if we just remained friends. Got that? WE had decided. WE thought it would be best, because WE had other interests, and WE realized that it would never work because We had too many obstacles in the way. To me, all of that translates effectively into, "See 'ya."
Fine. I'm a big boy, I can handle it. Both of us agreed. We weren't supposed to contact each other. We weren't supposed to speak to each other for fear of generating those old feelings and desires. It was good. That was the deal. WE had decided, WE had agreed.
"So, anyway, I just thought I'd call. Uh...that's okay, isn't it?" she says with a tinkling little laugh. "So, how've you been?"
I guess I misunderstood the agreement.
During this second, post affair-affair, when it was in full swing, she spent two hours– two hours – convincing me that I was in love with her back then, years ago, at our first affair, the pre-post, before the subsequent, affair-affair. After going over it, dissecting the minute details, the small, tiny, fine print at the bottom little things that determine my true feeling for her, I finally conceded to...well I don't really know what I conceded to, but whatever it was, she won. I admitted it. I was in love with her...kind of...I think.
Anyway, after all that, after the sparks and the sizzling re-connection, after the red hot amore tête-à-tête, after the 'agreement' and the second – subsequent – pre-post – re-ignited – affair-affair, she calls me.
Needless to say, I was surprised. Many thoughts ran through my mind; what am I feeling? What is she feeling? How can I put a hit out on her without it coming back to me?
I guess women have a completely different concept than men do when it comes to things like love, relationships, the definition of the word 'agreement.'
Still, with all my complaints, I have to say...hearing that beautiful, hypnotic, and sultry voice of hers was like drinking down gulp after gulp of cold, crystal clear spring water after weeks of dire thirsting in the hot Saharan Sun.
So, I talked, laughed, joked. We spoke of different things; her job, her son's high school activities, my writing, where she's going with her career, the muzzle velocity of a .44 Magnum at point blank range. I hated every minute of it...and I loved every minute of it. I beg for the day she calls again, and I pray she never does.
Thus, the flame that burns in the human heart soothes, warms, comforts, keeps the cold chill of loneliness from invading the soul. But let us beware, that same flame singes, sears, scorchers and scars, that same fire has the power to destroy all who venture too close, those who would approach the blazing inferno, that conflagration known as...Love.
I have put my hand in, and there kept it too long, feeling the torturous pain of its unforgiving caresses.
So, there you have it. A long lost lover returns to glibly rip the stitches out and smile sympathetically at the freshly bleeding wound. Hey, doesn't bother me. I'm tough. I got hair on my damned chest, I run with the wolves. I simply said goodbye, nice talking to you, and hung up the phone. No harm, no foul. I'm a rock. Solid. Strong. And if she calls again? Why should she? After all, we have a pre – subsequent – ensuing – here-to-for – since the last – post – affair-affair – second – agreement.
(Note to self: check with Sammy 'The Bull' Gravano on pricing)

Keck

(If you've tried to email me and are still getting no response, it's because I'm not responding. Actually, my email is still down, but I'm working on it. I should have it up in a week or so. After that, email me and I'll get back to you promptly. Really. I promise. If you're female, leave your name, a working phone number where you can be reached, and what you wear to bed. Thank you for your patience.)