love, anyone?

i wanted to write a post about love, and relationships between men and women; try and express all my current bewilderment and astonishment at what it can pull us to do, with all its beauty and tortuousness; how it can be ephemeral, and only rarely forever. and how we sometimes leave all logic and reason at the bedside, to 'believe' and 'have faith' in someone else to work together with - even out of our usual way - for a better tomorrow. and perhaps, day after.

however when i sit down to put words together, i'm left confounded by my and other people's reactions on sticky romantic wickets, and can form no mind-blastingly original insight on the tragedy of love. it is there for all to see, but for few to understand. the worst of our silliness, immaturity, insecurities, and emotional imbalances can be out, and sometimes it's not pretty, but we keep doing it?

yes, love works; but to find it, and to keep it pure - what price, these? or is there at all any such thing as pure love? is it often only a curious mix of comfort, fancy, and compatibility and we are only too happy to name it 'love'? also, it is mostly conditional; most people have no idea when they talk of unconditional love. either way, we bandy around the word too carelessly.

or am i being needlessly cynical, and need only wait till i bask in its blissful euphoria again, to forget about this post?

happy valentine's day, everyone!