No love has ever been wrong, there are only people who would call anything love. No heart remains broken for ever, there is only a heart that won’t heal. There is no such thing as two distant souls, there are just two people who have made the decision to distance themselves from each other.
Some people say no love lasts for ever. This is what only those scared of living that kind of love say. The same ones who believe that pain is eternal, but love isn’t. They find it easier that way. For pain to be eternal, you do not have to do anything – it is enough that you talk about it. For love to be eternal, it is not enough just to talk about it – but to do everything in your power for the sake of love.
This is the reason why we only read about love nowadays. Or watch movies about it. Or listen to love stories from old grannies and grandads. It still exists, but nowadays somewhere far away from us. As if it were in some other time, another dimension and happening to other people. As if it won’t grow among us, won’t be grafted either onto our skin or our heart. As if our conditions are no longer favourable for cultivating the seed of love.
It can be concluded that love thrived better in times of drought. When there was no choice, when there were fewer possibilities, when people did not choose but had to do things. Today, in a deluge of possibilities, it seems that it takes more courage to make a decision about one drop, than to survive on that single drop you were given in the past. Those drops, a long time ago, just because they quenched thirst, were held like water in the palm of your hand. Nowadays, just because it pours down from all sides most people hate rain.
We talk a lot but communicate little. We have expectations, but fail to give. We give ourselves, but we do not give in. We demand that our feelings be returned – but with interest, we share material things – but only after signing for them. We get wet, but only up to our ankles. We free ourselves, but we do not go further than the next corner. Bodies rub against each other, but rarely do people make love. They orgasm but do not experience ecstasy. They live together, but do not live togetherness.
Love is beautiful. But when, with time, it stops releasing dopamine into the bloodstream, it requires that we make up our minds. It requires something more concrete than hormones. When our chemistry ride is over, it requires that we stop and make a decision. To realise it is no longer enough to hold each other’s hand, but lend a hand when necessary. That it is no longer enough to sleep next to someone, but share the same dream. That it is no longer enough just to wish someone we love all the best, but to give them support to do what they think is best for them.
To make the decision to cherish the peace we achieved through love. To make the decision to build a home on the serenity corner love gave us. To make the decision that love is our journey, not that love is our final destination. Love is a decision, because it is a conscious choice to make our life goal our way of life. Don’t be scared, you do not need courage for that. It is a liberating moment, when you come to realise that, besides everything around you that is love, you yourself become love inside.
Translated from the Serbian by Svetlana Milivojević-Petrović
This post is also available in: Serbian