|I did a lot of research and spoke to a lot of couples for this posting...|
Love (for men) is…
Love is… having your own personal psychiatrist
(you know… where the patient actually thinks she’s the doctor?)
Love is… having your own personal assistant-cum-stalker (you know… where your amour asks you – “You were ‘getting ready’ to leave for work one hour ago. Where were you for that 45 unaccounted minutes? Who were you with??")
Love is… having your own personal trainer and LIFE motivator (you know… when you finally give up the ghost of excuses and finally admit to her, “Well, maybe I like having a gut? Maybe I like wheezing after two steps up the stairs? Maybe I don’t want to conform to Marie Clair’s idea of manly beauty? Maybe I am just lazy? Maybe I don’t want a big house in the suburbs? (I just want to inherit it) Maybe we can be happy without all these inconvenient truths? Maybe this should be a quiet car journey for once?)
Love is… contemplating throttling your amour and being held back only because (1) She is stronger than you (2) You have not practiced your alibi (3) It is just too much hard work. (4) You have watched too many episodes of CSI and don't think you can get away with it. (P.S. This is actually from Chris Rock’s stand up show)
Love is… wondering (silently) how perfectly happy you were when you were in ‘the Friend Zone’ with her, and did not have to deal with her hidden insecurities, dementias, hormonal imbalances and manic obsessions. And wishing that you don't have to lie so many damn times.. "Wow! Your peanut butter cookie is amazing! No, of course I enjoy going shopping with you! Of course there is nothing more interesting for me to do (like watching the paint dry)!"
Love is… looking at her and wondering, “Oh God… what have I done to deserve this….???”
In both sense of the phrase.
In both sense of the phrase.
He he he.
But finally, Love is… not having learnt a single thing from our experiences, and to fall hopelessly, despairingly, perfectly in love all over again. We must be stupid, we are.
That is Love (for men)
|Is this love or is this emotional-stalking... I really don't know. Help!|
Heche regularly complaints to me, "It's all about God and the Prophet, then it's about God... then the Prophet... then back again about God. What is the point of going out with a blogger if he doesn't write about ME?"
I try to explain to her that I would lose credibility if I write fawning and let's face it, boring monologues about our 'perfect relationship'. No reader would be interested in that. I bet you would go "Oh yuck. A happy loving couple, oh SO interesting."
So I recorded the prose above about an imperfect relationship. Especially from the point of view of men. Because, coincidentally I am a man. And boy, am I imperfect.
If your mate reads the prose and tells you he feels otherwise, then I am sorry... he is a dirty lying bastard. But it's okay... don't go dumping or breaking up with him. After all, he is still YOUR dirty lying bastard. And nothing can ever take that away from you.
Tis' a lovely Wednesday, sunshine. Time to laugh, laugh, and love!
wa min Allah at-taufiq
Hate has no place in Islam
Love will show the Way