Love it’s such a simple word, isn’t it? Four letters, easy to spell and write down on a sheet of paper, but so hard to understand exactly what it is. Apart from air, food and water, it probably the one thing on this planet that we all crave more than anything else. Love comes in many forms, each as intricate and bewildering as the next.
There’s the special love between a mother and child, the love that we all experienced in the early part of our lives, a bond that last right through our precious lives, the love that we fall back on in times or strife and angst. The only love that is guaranteed to last a lifetime. There’s the love between two close friends, the kind that usually survives for many years. The fascination that we have for certain celebrities like pop stars, actors or games characters. At the time we think its real passion, something that lasts for life. Luckily we find real love to replace the crushes we have on these unobtainable few.
No, the love that we all crave is the type that exists between two partners, the sort that sets our hearts racing and affects the way our brain normally works, throwing us into totally irrational beings. Every living moment of our day is spent thinking about this person, our sleep interrupted by nightmares of life without that special person. Yes love is a real bugger. The heartache that it usually entails, the highs and lows of your time together, love never has a very solid foundation. It’s like the flood plains in Somerset. When the sun’s out it’s the most wonderful place in the world to be, green and fertile, a place to walk under the warming rays of sunlight. However when the clouds gather, the waters rise and the beauty turns to desolation and it’s now the last place in the world you want to be. Each step taking an age, as though walking in treacle, each desperate to escape.
So why do we put ourselves through this agony, time and time again? Why is this emotion so powerful that it takes over our lives, ruling our minds time, taking over our normal sane brains? Endless songs, films and books have been written about love, each trying to explain its complex mechanics. Each fails in its own way because love is essentially random, hitting us at totally unexpected times.
I’m Tom, some of you will know me by now as the Squonk insists on writing down events in my tragic life and posting them online for others to read. He thinks that people haven’t realised that Tom only exists inside his tiny cranium, but for now I’ll play along with the illusion. I’m going to tell you about, erm, my love for a special girl, do I need to tell you her name? Yes? Oh well it’s Sinead, I bet you didn’t see that one coming ;)