Life is like a hackneyed simile

Something occurred to me the other day, whilst walking*: I’m not un-fall-in-love-able-with. Or un-fall-in-love-with-able. Either will do. The point is, I’m not. Probably.

Here’s the thing…

Life is like a hackneyed simile

The people who have fallen in love with me (and actually told me about it) both behaved reprehensibly towards me at/around the point of revelation. I didn’t invite their (romantic) love, nor did I encourage it.

Neither of them was the person I married, who I don’t think fell in love with me, or (at the time of knowing) would have known what falling in love was if it bit him on the nose. I wasn’t in love with him either, and we doubtless both added to our own not-inconsiderable lists of mistakes regarding the other, when we tied the knot. Mea culpa.

That’s beside the point. The point (behaving as it so often does, like smoke one attempts to pin to a wall) is this: I don’t know what to make of it – of me, and the capacity to be fallen in love with.

It’s clearly there, as long as I don’t measure it by the calibre of person who’s done it. Or;

It’s not there, and I can hold the calibre of person who did it, responsible for their falling. Or;

Because of the calibre of person who did it, it wasn’t really falling at all, and the wondering is moot. Or;

I can decide there’s insufficient data to make any kind of sensible extrapolation, and surmise I should infer nothing, but continue on my merry way, being on the lookout for potential emotional gin-traps.

[disclaimer – I never said the original ‘something’ made any sense]

I’m not unfamiliar with love, in many of its guises. Lucky me!

Affectionate, familial, playful loves – those I enjoy with my friends-and-relations, and am constantly delighted to have in my life – one of the wonderful situations where more is more is more.

Selfless love is probably not something I can be objective on, and can only say I try my best. If it means things like emptying the dishwasher so my mum doesn’t have to, or depriving myself of sleep to make sure Neff gets his inhaler, I can think of any number of examples. If it’s deeper or bigger than that, there are probably painful (and painfully stupid) instances I could dredge up but simply don’t want to.

Enduring love again seems ever so subjective, but really, I’d like to think so.

Obsessive love…well, I’ve had ridiculous crushes, so maybe yes, but I think I’ve also been able to see the lack of realism in my ridiculous crushes, so also maybe not. Not really one I want to dabble with, to be honest.

Self love (not that kind!) is something I’m working on and finally making progress with. Didn’t think I ever would but there you go – what is life if we can’t surprise ourselves sometimes!

Erotic love I experienced best once all that horrid marriage business was over and done with, and I found someone who showed me what it was really all about. All I can say is wow. WOW! And…if it could ever happen again, sign me right up.

But falling in love? I couldn’t even begin to imagine what bits of each of those categories it would fall into! Some of almost all of them, I should think! Elements of all of them would be necessary to fall in love, be in love, continue being in love with someone…and the chance of them reciprocating? It astonishes me I know as many couples as I do, whose love seems to represent the best of those categories.

As we finally drag ourselves from 167 days of January and get into the swing of RED AND PINK HEARTSVILLE February, the pervasive mood doesn’t seem to be doe-eyed or dewily coy; it seems to be trudging. The people I know who are most excited about Valentine’s day are singles, who are making the day all about them, and indulging in some self-care, time out, and treats they choose for themselves, to enjoy BY themselves, thankyouverymuch.

I get it, I really do.

In the face of the international political landscape, how can we possibly have time for something as saccharine and commercial as love? In the face of the ecological disaster we’re beginning to reap the whirlwind of, how can we justify spending on throwaway tokens of affection? In the face of social media telling us, insistently, what and how and why we should celebrate, what good does it do us to comply?

In the face of love and its inherent terminality, why even bother?

Life is like all kinds of things (I’m going to work my way back to the point, I promise) – a box of chocolates, riding a bicycle, a journey, a bumpy ride, a blur, a rollercoaster – we can throw any number of cliches at it to try to encompass the magnitude and bizarreity** of the whole. We like to try to box it into nuances we understand – break it down into manageable chunks, but it’s just not possible.

Like love, life is more enormous and comprised of more seemingly incompatible parts than we ever thought possible. It waits til we think we’re on the right track, then something shifts, we trip, and suddenly get side-swiped to next Tuesday where we just have to sit for a while, still reeling, and wonder what on earth was up with THAT!?

It doesn’t make sense. Life, love, any of it.

But we know from the elevation of love to LEGENDARILY IMPORTANT levels, that it’s something absolutely worthwhile. In whatever guise, we chase it, we cherish it, we want more of it, and we’ll move mountains to get it. It makes us silly, it makes us dangerous, it makes us whole.

Love runs the gamut of life, and if we’re lucky, we get to go along for the ride. We need to be open to it, need to be ready for its shattering unexpectedness and overwhelming banality. We need to seek it out, find it where it already exists, and make sure, whatever else we do, we damn well celebrate it in all its proper forms.

Love gets so tangled up into things which aren’t it; things which resemble it but turn out to be poison; things which we were told were it, but were just stories; things we didn’t realise were it, and discarded, that when we do find it, we’re lucky if we know it.

There are places I know it, and I’m ever so very thankful for each of them.

And that’s really quite something.

Now get on out there, and LOVE.


*Because for some reason, all the best thoughts seem to occur whilst I’m doing something other than writing, especially if it makes writing nigh on impossible at the time (e.g. showering) perhaps so I need to employ a great deal of deliberation and second thought to even remember what I was thinking about and why I thought it was so good, before I get to the stage of writing it down for anyone else to peruse. Anyway…

**It is a word. Must be. I just wrote it.

Love runs the gamut

Thanks HUGELY for the above image, made for me and this piece by the wonderful Kitt O’Malley

26 thoughts on “Life is like a hackneyed simile

  1. can I just hop in here horribly, inexcusably late and tell you I love the way your mind works, and even more, how you put those thoughts onto the page? I guess I can cuz I just did. ❤

    OF COURSE you'll find love again. There's someone for everyone, and you are magic.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I think chasing love is like chasing a cat: it runs much faster than you, darts and turns, and sometimes climbs up a tree and mocks you. But if you don’t pay any attention to it, it comes towards you, cautiously at first, and then next thing you know, it is curled up in your lap and you feel warmth and fuzziness.

    Liked by 2 people

    • That’s a wonderful thought. I have found it behoves one to work on oneself in the times spent not paying it any attention. That’s how I got so many asesome friends. It’s how I hope to keep some of them.


  3. I just read your blog. I haven’t for a while… sorry… been distracted. But this time, something in me said to. Yes! I agree with all of it. I am 62 (going on 16 going on 90) and have fallen prey to many loves. I have been single and alone (romantically) for 8 years and content and happy. I have a lot of love in my life… family, friends, etc. Some people don’t ‘get it’ but I do. Romance may happen again someday, but past loves have been so destructive I am happy as is, and a big part of me hopes it doesn’t. Thanks for the reminder (not that I really need one, I revel in my solitude every day).

    Liked by 1 person

    • No apologies needed. Ever. I am just glad you read and enjoyed and took something from it. Thank you for sharing your wisdom and experience. I am glad to know despite the ructions of loves held and lost, it’s still possible to feel positive about love and solitude and the future of both 😃


  4. Lizzi, as you know, I loved this so much, I quoted and shared the quote. Thank you.

    As for romantic love, you are so loving, so generous, so bright, and so sexy, that you will enjoy romantic love — no doubt. The love of a life companion, a partner with whom you share sexual and practical love, is wonderful. Developing and sustaining that love is not always easy, but it’s worth it.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. It’s a crazy weird and wonderful thing, love is. I suppose that’s because there are so many different types of love, but that feeling…the excitement, the heart race, the flushed everythings… the, as you said thing of “It makes us silly, it makes us dangerous, it makes us whole.” You’ll find it again. I know it. I’ve been next to you and you’re magnetic and utterly fabulous. Also I want to hear about the one before the one you married. I don’t think I know that story.

    Liked by 3 people

  6. Lately, I’ve written about the word devotion and what it means. I am working on an article about online dating with a disability and that self love stuff keeps coming up.

    Like you mention, on the 14th I am having lunch with another single friend.

    I think, having a birthday so close to the day where “love” is celebrated so wholeheartedly, both days confronted, I am faced with these questions because I am already feeling like I should be celebrating me, by the time Valentine’s Day comes around. My birthday is enough of a something to note, and to focus on what is important, to feel the love.

    I get what you are saying here, in a big way. It is a feeling so worth repeating again and again, if it comes around. Doesn’t mean we’re any less baffled by the whole damn thing.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Ohmigosh QUITE! It is endlessly baffling. I don’t know if we’re meant to understand it or whether one of the most rewarding things about it is the trying, the working at it, the learning.

      I hope you have a super birthday, and I am glad you are celebrating you. I am glad you have friend plans for valentine’s day. I think you’re approaching it right.

      And online dating…good grief. If you figure out how to make it work, give me a clue?

      Liked by 1 person

  7. Yowzer! That’s some title ya got there Lizzie. I like it.
    Good post. Funny,maybe serendipitous, that I thought of you while I was writing my TToT this morning (before knowing you wrote this post) and reminiscing back when you declared me (or was it you!) the “queen of subtext” 🙂 I was thinking fondly that if you read my post you would so get the subtexts although even for me they are pretty well hidden. I think, lol
    You know, sometimes it’s impossible, since I no longer write much, to articulate words for a comment when I read something I identify with. It winds up becoming a one sided event in that I have benefited from (your words) but can’t reciprocate even though I know you would know what it was I was trying to say 😀
    Here’s to you Lizzie.

    Liked by 1 person

Comments are where the magic happens...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s