I have turned writing love letters into a therapeutic way of coming to some sort of terms with different situations, finding closure to seemingly unanswerable questions, or inviting new things or people into my life.That is what this series is about.
The following letter was written by a friend of mine.
His letter was written to one of the most mysterious concepts in the world, love.
I have been asked to write a letter of you, but I have been pressed to speak to you, and so I am taking initiative. A person who is considered intelligent in this society is a person who finds patterns and makes good use of them. We measure some output as the effect of some causal input, and with enough tedium and time and rigor, we develop a strong theory concerning the goings on of the stages in between. We have managed to do this with the tangible and the intangible, the qualitative and the quantitative, the auditory and the visual and practically all sensory data that we are consciously aware of. With that track record in successful patterning understood, how is it that you, Love, remain as unpredictable and powerful to us as the weather once was to ancient humans? To be clear, you are not the only thing this universe knows that bounds all beings to a level playing field. There exists an entire spectrum of emotion which is an evolutionary tool – something that, although often warped by society, is innate in all of us who breathe and strive. Like those emotions, your general presence can be explained swiftly and thoroughly by evolutionary development. You are, however, undoubtedly the exception. The ruler, perhaps, of the emotional spectrum, you evoke fellow emotions as an inextricable part of you, attached in the sense that whatever additional emotion it may be, it would not exist in consciousness without you.
For most humans, you make your presence known for the first time well before birth. A mother’s mind and body go to extraordinary lengths to ensure a safe and nurturing environment for the developing baby, and you are abundantly present through every step and hurdle along the way. This sort of interaction does not give me pause at all – it is pure and biological, logically patterned and emotionally fulfilling. What I need to ask you about, Love, is your more wicked and complex nature. Why have millions of people, touched by your grace, died from an immense love of their god, or of their nation? Why have millions more than that, also touched by your grace, died having not been able to feel your touch? Why does giving you to someone fulfill our deepest human longing, but devastate us when it is not received? I have never understood you and I haven’t yet decided upon my feelings for you. If I was asked, I would probably say that you are the most important thing in life, something to pursue, and something to abide by. But if I wasn’t asked, and I was able to wonder, I would try to uncover your pattern. If, in fact, I found that you ultimately lead to death, I would ask myself if that is an inherently bad path to wander. And if, when I look in the eyes of a beautiful woman, I feel your presence accompanied, as it often is, by fear and self-doubt, I will wonder if it is truly you that I feel and not an imposter. Because I want to believe in your good nature, Love. More abstractly than that, I want to respect you as intentional and intelligent, a force who understands its power but does not seek to expand it.
I have been in love before, I think. I know that I have felt grief as a result of love. I know that I have felt pain and sorrow and elation and jubilation and pain and fear and guilt and pain and excitement as a result of loving some one, or some thing, or some place. I don’t know how to recognize you beyond a reasonable doubt, though, and I wish that I did. I wish I knew what you looked like and how you walked and spoke and breathed, and I wish that I could pinpoint your distinct smell and taste and code of fashion and code of morality. If I knew these things I would introduce myself to you, and I would be able to inquire and hope that you would help me understand. A person who is considered intelligent in this society is a person who finds patterns and makes good use of them. But you – elusive and labyrinthian in nature – take too many forms and walk too many paths to be simulated forward or backward. Maybe your most dangerously powerful notion of all is to force us to abandon our intellect in favor of your guidance. Before turning my back, though, and blindly encouraging others to seek your refuge – who are you Love? Who are you?
photos not mine!
my heart n soul,