Guest Blog: Love is in the Air
March 5, 2012 § 54 Comments
A big thank you to Rosie for this brave guest blog today:-
In the spring, a plankton’s fancy (never mind a young man’s) lightly turns to thoughts of love. And today [Rosie sent this to me a few days ago. Px], being the first unofficial day of spring, love was everywhere, from the teenagers chewing each others’ faces off on the park bench to the gnarled old couple holding hands at the bus stop, he with a massive gargoyle nose that would stop you in your tracks at ten paces, poor sod. But still she loved him.
Which got me round to thinking, as I often do, can you live a life without love?
Romantic love is not the only kind of love, of course. There’s the love a mother has for her children, the platonic love of a good friend, the love you have – if you’re lucky – for your parents and siblings. Even the affection someone has for a cherished pet (maybe a goldfish is pushing it here) could be described as ‘love’.
You could even argue that you don’t need love at all, that you just need to fill your life with ‘stuff’ and keep madly busy. And there are lots of exciting things to pad it out with: listening to an amazing piece of music, turned up loud, with good headphones on; reading a life-changing book; looking out the cabin window at 30,000 feet, tipsy on free champagne miniatures and having that slightly surreal feeling that anything is possible; the delicious anticipation of a debauched night out (when I was much younger, I should probably add!), not knowing how it will unfold. The list is endless.
But can any of them compare with those heady, almost unbearable, feelings of being so into someone that just thinking about them gives you palpitations? Or, once the ‘madly in love’ phase has waned (which it must, otherwise there would be a whole load of basket cases walking around), the cosy, warm reassurance of knowing that someone actually gives a monkey’s toss about you?
When you’ve been in love it’s the only place you want to be. I’m not so sure Tennyson got it right when he wrote ‘tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’. You can’t miss what you’ve never had. And I miss it, sometimes so badly that the mere thought of another day on my own fills me with such a terrible ennui that I despair for the future.
But hey, life goes on, and so, as another spring inexorably comes into bloom and the snogging teenagers and amorous oldies come out in force, this plankton goes about her solitary business, as she has done – railing against it all the way – for as long as she can remember.
Which brings me to conclude that, yes, you can live a life without love, but it’s no life at all.