Love is a subjective word

Love is a strange old feeling.

As far as I am aware it's a mixture of a zillion neural processes in the brain, feelings and actions. To pin it down to a science, for me, would be crazy. Because I'm no scientist! I also think love is such a subjective feeling. There are perhaps many loves that people define as such. I want to talk about them today, and my experiences.

I've told you what I was like as a young highschooler and my mentality during college and thereof. For those that have missed that part of my journey I was an emotionally and sexually abused young man. My first experience with any kind of love was that of an older woman online. It seems strange that I'm writing about it because I thought this part of me would be locked forever, alas, writing for me helps process those difficult emotions.

I met this woman online that was significantly older than me, she was perhaps in her 30's, even although she swore that she was in her 20's. Whenever I talked to her over the phone she sounded like she was a transexual man in his 50's, and probably was. Yet, this didn't help me falling head over heels in what I thought was love with her from the start. Thing is, this person absolutely knew how to talk to young, immature boys. In fact her #channel was basically full of young immature boys. This was IRC, anything can happen, right?

For me it was an obsession, and although she gave me clear indication that she wasn't interested in me, she always kept that hook dangling. Emotionally scarring to say the least. And this woman was a live wire, for a man that claims he absolutely hates the drama, I sure as hell found myself in loads of drama. She'd go off on one if I ever, ever dared to divert from the truth that was presented to me. She was a nutty nutbar, and I was hooked in it.

I called that love back then, although unrequited there was a sticky sort of unrelenting emotion that kept me tangled with her. She knew she was dangling the carrot, I expect my obsession gave her good sensations, but you know, luckily I moved country and didn't have the internet afterwards. This saved me.

Fast forward about five years and I met another woman from the internet. I was 25 and we both fell in absolutely sticky crazy love together. We would literally spend 8 hours a day on the phone together. The things we would talk about were exponential, existential and highly engaging. I was a great believer in long distance relationships back then, well, well, well before it was a 'thing'. We lived in each others pockets, we sexualised ourselves over the phone and over the internet, we agreed on almost everything.

The beauty of our relationship was that we formed it out of an understanding that both of us were fucked up. We both had long term mental conditions and talked about them to each other at length, it was fun, it was amazing. It was something different for me. It was the first time I had actually felt valued to some aspect from another female.

It all came crashing down when I exposed a part of my life at the time I didn't tell anyone. I was a paranoid schizophrenic and believed that at any time the government would take me because I understood their mind control activities. I was fucked up, she recognised it, and it was something she realised she couldn't deal with. So she slowly phased herself out of my life. To say that it crushed me was an understatement, and I spent A LOT of years angry at myself  over "what if", I also quite respect the fact that she recognised in herself that was something she wasn't quite prepared to deal with. Alas, I spent several years bitter and twisted afterwards until one fateful day I burst into tears, wept all night and threw a hotpot Pyrex dish through the window. Things seemed better after that.

And then, one fateful day as I was at work my now wife walked through the door. On a thirteen week placement to build up her stamina after an injury she had sustained a few years ago. Those thirteen week were like a whirlwind of getting to know each other and letting each other in. Finally, her term ended and we went on a date together. It was a funny thing, because by now I had given up alcohol and I hadn't branched out into anything exciting yet, I had no-one to show me the ropes. So on our first date we went to watch the speedboat racing, and on our second we went to the circus and afterwards have a long walk along a moonlit beach. See, she was an non drinker too, and for longer than me. She knew the ropes, it was a fantasy come true.

It was a strange sort of feeling at the start. I was a man hopped up on medication for the anxiety and depression that ruled his life constantly. I was a sufferer back then of feeling like I was emotionless, but I look back and think how bloody exciting all the dating was. So perhaps I didn't know how to properly analyse my emotions. It was strange, being with my partner was like nothing I had never experienced before, her life was relaxed and comfortable, she had money, education and a mind that I just wanted to fuck, but there was no obsession there. You see, my past relationships were sticky and obsessive and burned that fire all night with whatever emotion was fuelling it in the moment. This one was somewhat different. She was calm, relaxed, and I always felt her warmth whatever situation we were in.

She had created a totally safe environment for me, safe from criticism, safe from judgements, if I'm honest it's the first time in my life I had actually felt that someone wholeheartedly meant me no wrong. It was a strange place to be in if I'm honest, we were having truly mind blowing sex - sex of the likes I had never experienced before, and yet, that all too familiar lovey dovey nuzzle up feeling wasn't there. I wasn't obsessed (I later learned about obsessions), it was strange because I was always questioning whether I loved this woman or not, and should I just do her the favour of letting her down gently before I hurt her even more. I was torn.

See, I had watched too much of my direct families obsessions, I had watched far too many Adam Sandler romantic comedies and shit like Braveheart to even understand that a long term relationship was a commitment and takes a good amount of effort.

It's not always going to be good. We'll bicker and argue when we disagree but that makes us all the more stronger for it. Things will also challenge us along the way, we have had SO many challenges that could have sent us back home to our Parents yet we just keep plodding along, being stronger than ever.

We're not perfect, but our togetherness is amazing. This is healthy love in my opinion. Where I'd die trying to save her from the fiery pits of Mount Doom, and she'd walk to the ends of the earth for me.

In my mind, that's real love.

Thanks for listening,

@lifeisawesome