Love 6: A Search

Ok, I promise this is the last blog post on love.
I found a quote that managed to articulate what was still nagging me in this love train of thought. Those moments - when I find others perfectly articulating my thoughts when I cannot - are very special and take my breath away.

"You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly." - Sam Keen

There is such beauty in that phrasing. I understand how people can love deeply flawed people, how even after severe heartbreak forgiveness can overtake one's heart. Love grows anew like the stubborn forest after the fire. With gripping roots intact, it sprouts news trunks, branches and leaves. I understand how abused women can stay with their men. Because love is that powerful, it can and does make people do things that would objectively be against their self-interest. It forces forgiveness upon even stubborn hearts and sews up the deep gashes of heartbreak.

I think I understand now, that she never loved me fully. She was searching for the perfect person, and it was the doubt that I was not he which drove us apart. If she had truly loved me, then she would have seen me as perfectly as I saw her despite the fact that we are both quite imperfect. I fear that most people do not understand this concept. Love does not just develop on its own accord, it is a choice, whether conscious or unconscious. I cannot exactly articulate why it is a choice or exactly what that choice is, the best I can explain is that it is a choice between selfishness and selflessness. Selfishness is to fear the opportunity cost of love, while selflessness is to embrace love. I remember making the choice, to really throw myself into it and love not just for myself, but for her. It may have bought me heartache, but it has brought me more happiness than I can express. Even in the midst of love's melancholy there is a wellspring of joy.

I daresay that I hope to never find the perfect person. I never want to be burdened with a search for them, I think it would be like passing through the fires of hell. As Bob Dylan wrote in his song "Abandoned Love": "The pot of gold is only make believe. The treasure can't be found by men who search." No, I am arrogant enough to hope to be blessed a second time with seeing an imperfect person perfectly.