14 March 2011

How Often Must We Say "I Love You"

I was mindlessly wandering through my friends' profile pages when I chanced upon this interesting piece of reading that a friend of mine, Mr. Caesar-Édouard Perrin had composed. It caught my attention, as I feel there seems to be a scarcity of sensitivity and trivial sentimentality in the masculine psyche. His little mind adventure into the female emotional tendencies sparked an admiration on my end, for at times I find it rare that a man would bother himself with a woman's obsession over little, at times, inexplainably complicated way of perceiving things.

Thus, I requested his permission to export his Facebook note into my blog - perhaps for my reading convenience and also perhaps to aid propagate his epiphany.

"I feel that love is not necessarily best expressed in words. While it is most heartening to hear someone tell you that they love you, I feel that love should not be comprised of passing encounters or random fancies, but instead love should either be the cloud that you float upon, the pedestal that supports you, the blanket that comforts you. Love should be as constant and as all-encompassing as possible, and is best expressed not by three words, but by two: commitment, and consistency.

You wake. She sleeps. Kiss her eyelids. She may not know you did it, but her heart will remain warm for the rest of the day.

Got time to spare? Make her breakfast. Doesn't have to be fancy. Simple, sinful, the way she likes it. Butter. Maple syrup. Leave a rose on the tray.

You don't have to text her every five minutes, giving her the minutiae of your daily routine. You don't have to tack a poem on her fridge everyday before you walk out the door (although that would be nice once in a while). But you can be considerate. Try to be home when you say you will. If she asks you to pick something up on the way back from work, don't forget to come back with it. As often as possible you should make her feel like she is a part of your life. That she is important to you. Be considerate. Know her, understand her, feel for her. You're at the supermarket. Do you remember whether she likes dill or sweet pickles? Little things like these matter to a woman. If you remember what she likes, if you pay attention. Committed, consistent.

You don't have to bury her in balloons, greeting cards, roses, teddy bears and chocolates every time you return home. (Although now and then it would be very sweet of you to do so.) Instead, kiss her on the mouth, linger, and tell her with your eyes and your smile that you are glad to be home, that her arms around your shoulders are the solace that makes even the most tiresome day at work seem worthwhile.

Dinner. Ask her how her day was. Tell her how yours was. She cares for you, she wants to know how you've been. Be happy for her successes, concerned for her troubles, and be ready to defend her when you must. You are her knight, she is your princess; perhaps not in the lofty horse-drawn carriage castle-in-the-clouds Cinderella type way, but in the more prosaic 21st century concrete jungle manner, but that doesn't make knighthood any less romantic, or any less necessary. When a man loves a woman, the man means so much more to a woman than a man could ever hope to fully understand. When a woman loves, she remains a foundation of strength, a core of compassion and empathy. It is not so much that she wears her heart on her sleeve, but rather that she entrusts to her man the keystone of her foundation. For a man to fail a woman is to witness her collapse, and while she can indeed be rebuilt, for a woman is strong, what emerges from the detritus may not be the same woman.

Bed. Be her lover. Be her protector. As you take, so should you give. When you are both spent, don't let her go right away. The thin sheen of sweat that glistens upon your bodies will quickly grow cold, clammy and uncomfortable. Hold her. Do not abandon her to the soul-stabbing chill of isolation. Allow her to savor the afterglow of your mutual pleasures. And when she finally begins to drift into the land of dreams, whisper softly in her ear, "I love you." You may have only said it once today, but you will mean it, and she will believe you. Yours will be a love without uncertainty or trepidation. Hers will be a trust that will be founded upon your promise of commitment and consistency. You are her keystone.

She sleeps. She might not have heard you say you love her, but her heart will remain warm for the rest of the night."

As another dear friend of mine has oh-so-often, quite wisely expresses, "God is in the details".

It is in the minute and often discarded trimmings that bring a bit of meaning in certain acts. People have often bothered with packages more than the content. To me, specifically, an expensive store-purchased bouquet weighs exaggeratedly less in my heart next to a simple hand picked flower chosen specifically because of an underlying story between two people. As Anubis would weigh your heart against the feather of justice, it best be said that women tend to weigh a man's heart against the feather of sincerity and thoughtfulness.

Then again, I wish I can generalize for all - yet, women in current surveys have proven that money has increasingly improved a man's desirability in their eyes contrasted against that of love. Practicality comes into the picture and then love becomes quite an anomaly, perhaps a secondary and optional add-on to a successful relationship. This I would like to merely state, and leave hanging for the time being - best left for another day's discussion.

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