Tuesday, 17 December 2013

The Look of Love

I recently discussed the topic of love and the many different types thereof on my weekly radio show. I was quite alarmed to discover that there are more than fifteen recognised forms of love. I see only one.

I'm that cliche- the middle aged divorcee and nothing could make me run further and screaming, than the thought of life-draining relationship. I think men are nice enough but I've 'been around the block' once or twice and understand that nothing is ever what it seems.

Freud asked the question, "what do women want?" and seemingly, he sought to convince himself and others of the elusive response. The answer is really quite simple, yet we shroud our vision and cognitive ability to suit what, well, suits us.

Lovers and inappropriate relationships, encounters, abound and are for the taking. A gay friend recently confided to me of the hundreds of meaningless encounters he had endured over his lifetime. And he uttered the words that will remain forever etched in my mind: "I want to be loved. I don't know what that feels like." How sad to have spent more than forty years in meaningless sex when "love" was what he really craved. We all search for love. A smile at the end of a long day and a cuddle are worth more than diamonds, pearls and rubies combined (unless you're a Capricorn, in which case, you'll take the hard cash any day).

In the second half of my life, I am just myself. This makes me less of a fantastic potential mate. I'm irrascible because I've seen it all before. If a man is seeking a doe-eyed, lapdog, he will easily find one elsewhere.

A few years ago, I was hiring staff when I interviewed a young lady whom I though was suitable for the role. I offered her the job and a salary - higher than the average for the position. "No way," she explained, " I could have a sprog for a premier league footballer and get more than that every month in child support". I deferred to the football irreality. I couldn't afford £30k per month. It's not her attitude that is the problem but her absence of  grey matter. Not just intelligence but complete absence of self. She was in fact, a speaking shadow, an amoeba, which quite literally will absorb whatever DNA one chooses. The thinking mind would find the-ensnare-a-bloke-with-a-child scenario the least favorable way to live a life.

And so, the best relationships today are the ones of least resistance. The less than hard work, the easy option, the woman who is gentle, undemanding and malleable.

As one gets older, we don't do malleable. We do affection on a grand scale. We do laughter and we generally have bucket loads of life experience peppered with a substantial inventory of very funny jokes. That's all we have. It's not the money in the bank that attracts us, it's that chemistry. The unexplainable. The smile, the number of laughter lines, the soulful eyes, the guy who has sorted out his life and his brain. And the one who's just grateful at the end of the day, for this crazy, little, magic thing called life.

And there ain't the fifteen ways to say "I care". There's just the one.

Photo and painting copyright SvD.

No comments:

Post a Comment