Humanity Absolute: The Truth In Love Outside Of Conventional Love

I don’t really know where exactly to begin on this subject. The content is such that it is involving and encompassing and its details cannot be discussed without completely committing yourself to them and accepting the emotional nakedness that is required to understand them- all pretenses and façades must be checked at the door in order to be truly receptive to what is being said and shared. I understand that not everyone is or will be able to do this, in view of their personal beliefs and the way that they go about things as individuals, which is not always a negative thing as there are reasons behind the way people respond to things, however, in order to truly understand, or, perhaps not even go as far as to understand, but to endeavour to appreciate why a person is the way they are, if you truly care to know, you have to relinquish personal inhibitions pertaining to thought and reasoning, to a degree, and not constantly be trying to put the other person’s outlook and actions into context of what you would do, as that immediately closes off the part of you- if, indeed, it exists- that the honesty of a person’s emotion is trying to access, to the outcome of being understood a little better by the other. You do have to judge things by what you would do, it is only natural to do so, but the extent to which this is exercised has to be curtailed if you truly want to understand somebody in their essence- putting a filter on someone before they have begun to express is selfish and suppressive, the act of inhibiting a person’s declarations for no reason other than to control what they say so it does not screw with your own beliefs or notion of reality, to the end of preserving your own self and not to receiving both wonderful and enlightening, but also dark and courageous information that you have been viewed as worthy enough to receive. It may seem like I am talking in circles, but there is a meaning behind the rhetorical floating, but remaining very much winding in the way of streams of consciousness, so not structured to convention at all.

I have always been the type of person who is very forthcoming about the way I feel and I have always been very vocal about the expression of things both in my heart and mind. I am affected by the moods of others, particularly those that I care about, which is a list that extends further than the consciousness of logic in being able to identify who exactly belongs to this list- I believe that anyone who affects me has the ability to belong to it and become part of a world- my world- where they can receive unadulterated faith from me and be a person in which I can grow to confide and love, above all else. I am willing to make myself open to them and make a home for all their ebbs and flows, in hope that they will also become party to mine- it has to be said, though, that this desire for quality human relationship is not always met with the purity and transparency, the indisputable lack of agenda that exists within my motions, that would be the expectant or, indeed, logical response to this clarity of sensibility. I have, in my twenty-five years of life so far, been criticised innumerably by people who don’t understand this nature within me, or, more poignantly, do not wish to understand by any means and have been very brutally vocal about letting me know this. These criticisms have not been reasonable in terms of explaining why my words or, often, just my sheer presence in someone’s life are so evidently antagonizing, but more akin to splurging, spluttering venom into the veins of my sentiment with the intention to cut it off at the source, so that they can live unperturbed by the truth of how I feel and how they have made me feel. The word, the notion, the expression that has wrought such distress and precipitated verbal violence is love; the pure, straightforward, untainted sensation that it is- at least, it is to me.

In the interests of being neither misleading nor misunderstood, I have always put across, with verve and honesty, my feelings about anything that has evoked a response from me, love being the most powerful and outward expression of all, as I have felt uninhibited when it has been established within me. The knowledge and life in this feeling has empowered me with invincible sureness, however, the responses from people determined in disembowelling its entity with near fanatical indecency has hurt me in a very visceral way, leaving me riddled with guilt and the feeling of accountability for the way my actions have been received. Although it defies possibility to take on responsibility for the way that people react, the feeling of being responsible for how people perceive things and the remorse as a result of it is always there, even though I know, in some part, but perhaps not a strong enough part of me, that I am not at fault for the negative way in which people have taken my sincere sentiments and warped them to be visions of sordid, ill-meaning, almost salacious actions, which could not be further from the truth. I have never betrayed the trust of anyone, whether they are someone I care greatly about or a person encountered on an entirely distant level and I have certainly never cheated any relationship, romantic or otherwise, in pursuit of sharing truth and affection with another human being. The idea that expressing that I love someone could be to cause harm or heartache to anyone is a concept that I persistently fail to understand, just as much as I fail to understand that the overriding view of love, through what I have experienced of those with views at odds with mine, seems to be that love, if applied beyond the conventions of family, ‘blood ties’ and accepted relationships, can pertain only to sex and romance and the desire to be with somebody in that way and, that it, therefore, is unreal because these people choose to not acknowledge it. I cannot for the life of me comprehend that, aside from relations that exist within the boundaries of accepted societal culture, there are no other feelings to be had, shared and experienced with other humans, according to the stagnant viewpoints of these certain people. It is a mentality I have come across more often than the contrary, but with seven billion plus of us on Earth alone, I cannot conceive or believe this response to be true. It may be the very core of reality for some people, to be unable and unwilling to share yourself with other people without it pertaining to sex or romance, or living in the peril of sacrificing other relationships that have been built up, or relations that exist because of some familial or genetic tie, if you choose to indulge feelings exclusive of the above; for some people, the desire for human interaction outside of these perceived constraints may never even exist, which, alone in itself, is not the bad thing. The problem comes when you try and use these so-called norms and constraints and the fears associated with ‘pushing the boundaries’ of conventional, ‘always there’ relationships- such as within a family- to control the way and to who a person expresses how they feel and, to take away the meaning and purity of what they feel, so as not to disrupt your own sense of structure and togetherness that may, in itself, be stifling somebody’s wish for closeness and expression with somebody that they are not congenitally tied to.

I don’t want to go into too much detail about this as it is a subject within itself, but through personal experiences and things I have encountered this far in my life, I have never believed in being bound to or adhering yourself to someone just because the name of a relationship allegedly denotes it. People are not inherently designated to one another as they can do unspeakable, definably abusive things to one another and expect them to be tolerated as it is occurring within the boundaries of a named relationship and, so, has to be put up with within the borders of these constraints. The mindset of ‘it happened/was said to me/I went through it, so why can’t/don’t/won’t you’ is something that I have encountered more times than I have been able to handle; it has affected me in every conceivable way and I have never once agreed with it in any part of myself. The abuse and exploitation of one’s honesty and most genuine troubles and feelings is something I have experienced habitually from the inside and, even if I hadn’t, I like to think that I wouldn’t stand for it happening to anyone else, knowing the kind of person that I am- a sensitive, empathetic person who doesn’t need to have experienced things directly to understand that they can cause life-altering pain and suffering to someone else. I am aware that I digress as far as this is concerned, but what I am leading in to say is that people are not automatically bound to one another based on the name placed on a relationship. All relationships, of every nature, must be upheld and worked on by all of those involved if they want them to sustain- they will not continue to exist just because ‘it says so’ wherever a person thinks it does and, especially, if people only ever act based on their perceptions or, with the notion of a certain role within a relationship in mind, whether their actions are reflective of these things or not. Everyone is accountable, everyone is culpable and everyone is responsible for making sure that it works and that, above all else, there is always understanding and clarity as far as emotion is concerned, which, from where I lie, is the root of everything good in life and love.

Saying that I love someone is not disobeying the codes of order and expected conduct, it is a beautiful thing to be able to express and I am never in breach of the relationships that I do hold dear, those that are already established, if I choose to share and experience this with another individual. It is neither an invitation nor a signal for me to get my leg over on anyone, whoever they may be, and I don’t understand why so many people have made and continue to make it like this, or, indeed, misinterpret the honesty in what I feel as a mask for something else, or, in fact, feel ‘bothered’ by the actions of myself in relation to another person if the person involved does not have a problem with it and, likewise, isn’t doing anything to get one over on me or anyone I or they care about at all. Love is not always about sex and romance and it certainly never holds regard to anything untoward. Anyone who mistakes the latter for love is experiencing everything that is the antithesis of love itself- murky, underhand and laden with lies in order to achieve none but a selfish end. Love, to me, is truth and honesty, no matter who is on the receiving end of it. If you choose to lie to and deceive someone, then how can you say that it was done in love and in a manner of trust when the act defies the meaning, the essence and the soul outright? Everybody is a stranger until you choose to define a relationship with them- a friend, a partner, a companion, a confidante, whatever- so who is to say and to draw the line between what defines love, what is real love and what isn’t? If you feel it and it can be sensed in all its goodness by those around you, who is to define and try to control what it means to you and anybody else? To want to share with someone, to want to be around someone, to enjoy seeing someone, to desire and express physical and emotional closeness with someone, to listen and laugh and cry with someone, to want to hug someone and hold them close to you and feel them against your body and within your being, to place a kiss upon the cheek or hand of another person and to experience their existence in an entirely sensory way, these are the ways in which, I believe, we experience life in its true colour: through interaction, the very crux of human existence. If we can overload each other, to the point of being aggressively self-righteous, with images of faith, lyrical exultations of ‘living life to the fullest’, ‘keeping calm and doing whatever’, ‘stopping and smelling the roses/watching the sun rise/fluffing a kitten’ etc etc etc, then why can we not experience, extract, bathe in the beauty of life through our interactions and emotional connections with each other? Why can we not open ourselves up to humanity and the liquid life that pools within our souls and encourage and enliven and inspire one another through love? Why is it persistently conceived in a negative, damaging way when the feeling exists out of the understanding of a certain or number of individuals?

If I have ever told you that I love you, or you have ever felt the physical expression of it from me for yourself, know that it has been with unwaning truth and the capability of surrendering my most personal feelings and motivations to you. Whether or not it has been understood for the reality that it homes, misinterpreted in the hope of it either evolving into a love that I simply cannot give or being seen as something insidious and untrustworthy based on your negative feelings towards me and the so-called welfare of somebody else involved, my expression of love in the way that I interpret and understand it has been honest and so arrestingly straightforward that the result of it still being misunderstood is something I just cannot get my head around, no less translate it within my heart. My expressions of love have certainly never been to destroy anyone’s life or act as a hindrance to anyone’s individual and spiritual progression- I suppose it is incredibly easy to lay all of this on me instead of deal with the reality that the reasons for somebody’s life not being as you imagined for them or as they imagined for themselves is everything to do with their own decisions and not because I chose and wanted to share a part of myself with them and them with me. I’m not quite sure what else I can do to qualify and continually substantiate the clarity in perpetually existing clarity, why I must always be the one having to explain myself to people who never intended to understand the reasons for my being and why I do things as I do, why I feel as I feel and, who probably never will. I certainly don’t agree with manipulating somebody else’s actions, planting sadistic little seeds to alter their thoughts towards my motions and me, but, sometimes, people achieve this all on their very own. No matter how much you think I may have, I have never deserved the hurt, the anger and contempt, the anonymity, the vacant stares, the accusations and brawls, the being ignored, the exploitation and abuse of my thoughts and feelings, the manipulation of my words, the lies said to me and fed to others about me, the lack of understanding, the unyielding of character, absence of closure and being treated like I am worth less than all of humanity, to questioning my own convictions through my judgements being continually falsified that I have experienced, at any time, from you. Yet, regardless of all this, I still don’t think that you deserve a response near to any of that from me, because I have loved you and I do love you and I always will love you. But, now, or if it precipitates over time, when you don’t get the response from me that is ‘customary’, the one that you and so many others have come to expect being continually flogged with the openness of my feelings for you, consider why that is and what you might have done to warrant this response from me; a look turned away or complete silence, through not having anything to say or a desire to engage with you or further involve you in the goodness of what I do in my life in any way. It pains me to react like this, but it is exhausting being not only responsible for myself, but also continually conscious of the way in which others respond to things, exhonorating them from ever having to exercise any introspection and accept culpability for themselves. Consider what it is you might have done, as it always appears to be the other way round, but do know that the way I react is not because I do not love you- I do- but it is clear that you do not love me enough to give to me anything near to what I have expressed to you: perhaps you never really did, but you wanted to believe that you were a similar kind of person and allowed me to open myself up to you, without the intention of ever putting anything back. The pain will still be there, the memory of how it feels to think of you and how it hurts to accept that I no longer know you or know whether you think of me or consider me positively at all, the fear of all the hypotheticals, of seeing you and what would happen there… but I can’t be the one always saying something, reaching out and expressing to you, without even a hint of abandon or equilibrium from you. I cannot fix anything for which the reasons of wreckage have been experienced physically and accounted for, so far, only by me and, if they have been by you, whatever does it mean if you never express it to me and you know that I would always, always do that for you and welcome you with open arms?

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