Merci, merci, a great big dip of peppermint rocky road right... there... where it’s already all... No. And don’t you dare even snicker a thought about anything peach flavored south of someone's belt. Nope. Not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about love, not lust, not even the playful kind.
I’m talking about a morning shift waitress who has a kind thought and a bright smile for her regulars, a gal who’s known for giving quick hugs while walking the coffee pot around… no matter how tired she is. I’m talking about a good mother who doubles her workload to enforce a genuine gentle discipline on her child who really, really needs to know the limits... for safeties sake. I’m talking about the fireman who doesn’t hesitate before challenging hell… to make a rescue. I’m talking about the emo little girl who can’t find any comfort at all for herself… but can give comfort to the dying. I’m talking love here folks, and that? That is one freaking fragging hugely diverse concept that no one ever really seems to get a good grip on. And they should, because Baskin Robins doesn't have a thing on Love for having a wide assortment of flavors. Way to many folks settle on vanilla, or chocolate, maybe come to understand Neapolitan at best, and never realize just how much love really does pass through their lives.
For give or take the past two, three weeks I've been walking a road I've walked a few times before, a road no one should really have to walk, certainly not more than once. But fate and a friend saw that I needed to, and well you know how fate is. It's going to happen one way or another. And my friend? She walked it with me, even though it isn't her road, for her it wasn't the road across hell, just the road across me. She knows she'll have to walk the road across her own hell, someday, and she knows I'll walk her across that one just like she walked me across mine. Between now and that next walk it is mine to learn how to be as good a guide for her as she was for me. Just one of so many flavors of love, what is between she and I. Thanks sweetheart, you know who you are.
You know, I don't really have a clue how many distinct flavors love can take on. I'm a writer, I love to write a form of erotica I call anti-porn, methinks it's time I got serious about trying to really understand how many different ways genuine love gets presented to the world. It isn't at all confined to the sexual, and yet the sum of the love in the world is what ultimately powers the erotic where the heat of that fusion forges homes and families strong enough to withstand the test of time. That's what I'm after, I want to see more genuine families in my land. Bottom line is that's what my land needs more than it needs anything else.
*chuckle* Strange fate, to be a contra-social rebel patriot and philosopher rubbing shoulders at the edges of "the lifestyle" with the shrinks and the subs and the doms and the godless preachers and the agents of God who rarely see the inside of a church… yea, right. It would be so farking much easier if all we had to do was blow up one death star to make the whole problem go away. Oh, well. Time to put the pistol ammo in with the printer paper, they serve the same cause after all, get out the door and get on with it.
I do believe love is the answer--and I agree with you that it goes way beyond the sexual; in fact, to reduce love to sexual love is to deny all its power. Moreover, I've come to hypothesize that hate is only love reversed; that the greatest haters have the greatest capacity for love if they would only turn themselves around... John Lennon had it right: "All you need is love."
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