"I love you."

 
I almost said "I love you" the other day. I stopped myself not because it isn't true (quite the opposite in fact), but for a variety of reasons of which I wanted to try to discuss here. I would start by first analyzing the phrase itself.

The first word of that phrase, "I", implies every part of me - the good, the bad, past, present, future - my whole being. All my flaws, insecurities, and imperfections as wells as my strengths, assurances, and resilience are laid out to make of what you will. My truth is spoken and acted out with no regret.
 

The second word of the phrase, "love", is an interesting one. One most first recognize that love (at least in the pure sense in my estimation) is unconditional. It also falls into one of several types of love. The way you love good food or music is not the same way you love your child or parent (there are of course exceptions I suppose). C.S. Lewis talked about the different kinds of love in his book The Four Loves, published in 1960. Within 160 pages, he talks about Storge, Philia, Eros, and Agape - four Greek words essentially meaning empathy love, friend love, romantic love, and unconditional love, respectively.
 

The third word of the phrase, "you", I consider a reflection (more or less) of the first word "I". All your strengths, talents, time, and care take precedence over any weaknesses, shortcomings, and indifferences. I want to see, feel, know, and experience the WHOLE you. The REAL you. The you that only a handful of people get to meet if they're lucky. The you that pressed on through your Hell and came out stronger because of it. The you that chooses to face each day head-on and show empathy and order in a world filled with apathy and chaos. The you that chooses a smile instead of a scorn.

I rarely say I love you anymore. I used to say it to often, trying to force love where there wasn't any, at least in the Eros (romantic) sense. To be honest, I'm not too sure I've ever experienced Eros, at least to the extent to which it can be taken. I've of course had feelings for different individuals over the years, but it seems those same feelings inevitably turn from Eros to Philia (friendship) or at times (and quite unfortunately) disdain. The idea of love shifting from one kind to another is an interesting topic of discussion in itself, one perhaps for another time.

I would be remiss to not mention the modern phenoma of "ghosting". For the uninitiated, ghosting is defined as "the practice of ending a personal relationship with someone by suddenly and without explanation withdrawing from all communication.", according to Google. Ghosting I believe happens most commonly in the modern dating scene, especially in the Tinder, Bumble, OKCupid, etc. ecosystems. Went on a date with a loser that works a dead-end job and hates cats? Ghost 'em. Went on a date with an insecure and high-maintenance person that couldn't stop talking about an ex? No problem, just ghost 'em. I think the concept of ghosting is an interesting one that has a time and place, especially in situations involving domestic violence or the like but generally speaking, I think ghosting is a rash, immature, and downright cruel act. Instead of confronting the issue and acting like an adult about the damn thing, it's ignored and allowed to fester, often at the ignorance of the person being ghosted. How is the person being ghosted supposed to fix the issue if he or she doesn't know what that issue is in the first place? Leaving someone in the dark about their issues, regardless of how minor they may be, is not love.

So, what is love? I think first of my grandparents, both sets of which spent over fifty years of their lives together. Seeing my grandmother stand up out of her wheelchair to go over to my grandfather's bed and say "I love you" before being taken to the next hospital was a beautiful sight I won't soon forget. You knew immediately by the tone of her voice, the body language, her looking directly at him - that it was true.

When I say "I love you", I am making the conscious decision to love all of you with all of me for all time. I treat it almost as if it's a sacred oath that will be excruciatingly painful should it need broken. Love can be a beautiful, peaceful, overwhelmingly positive thing. Love can also be chaotic, frustrating, and tender. Despite the anxiety, pain, chaos, or confusion that love may cause me, I will always choose love over fear. The world is a dark, terrifying, indifferent, and depressing place, so anything I can do to show it more love, I will and want to. My hope is that when this body is no longer alive and laid to rest at the Candor Cemetery in Aledo, Illinois that people will say I was one of the most "kind, gentle, sweet, loving, respectful, professional, and caring individuals I have ever met". Until then, I am going to do everything I can to justify that.