These terms once held vastly different definitions (yes I can still remember lol!) Nowadays they seem to have merged somewhat. OK, you say, what does an aging Christian lady know of such things? Well actually, I was not always aging, or Christian. I was once a hippy type artist who fully believed (and practiced) the philosophy of “make love not war”.
To this day I see a loving, committed, responsible relationship as being as much of a “marriage” as one endued with a marriage licence in God’s eyes (sometimes more the way many modern marriages pan out). It’s not the licence, it’s the love bond. (There was no City Hall in the Garden of Eden if you get what I mean).
So what about this love and lust thing? While talking with one of my daughters I discovered we had the same perception. With some guys it just flowed and was a beautiful experience, with others even a first kiss was just plain icky, hence we’d both been selective in our love life, but unable to put a label on it.
Pondering the difference I realised it stemmed not from “style or technique” but which emotions were engaged. Lust was purely physical where as “making love” (a handy label) involved deeper and more spiritual emotions. Even if maybe not “in love”, it expressed love and along with love came, concern, responsibility, the act of love made you care more deeply about each other, made a connection on a deeper plane. This was the essence of the “love not war” philosophy – not free sex.
Watching modern media things seem to have become lost or tarnished in many ways, sex often being downgraded to a mere physical act with no commitment, tenderness, yielding of self or vulnerability. You can do it without lowering the mask. (Some seem to use this as a defence system to cover the hurt inside, but it only tends to enlarge it.) For me I’d term it lust.
Nowadays many folks tend to “fall in lust” rather than “in love”, that’s why it’s so easy to fall out again a few years later, or to “fall in lust” with someone else. I feel bad for these folks for this type of relationship cannot compare with the security of love, knowing your partner will love you even if you get fat, ugly, old, or sick because their love extends beyond the physical.
The, “I couldn’t help myself, I fell in love,” excuse often given by a partner cheating on their relationship holds no water with me. That’s not love but lust. Love is responsible, loving, not wanting anyone to get hurt. I know it’s possible to be in love with more than one person at the same time (it happened to me), but love wants to make the other happy so always acts in a caring and responsible way.
So that’s my “rant” LOL!
Frozen leaves crunched beneath her sneakers. She shifted the backpack spreading the weight. Behind the lights of “home” shone dimly through the darkness, a reminder of days, when summer dreams blossomed.
Now there was the road. She never stayed long, it always ended this way. Revving the motor gently, she steered the bike onto the road. She’d leave it in town with a note, he had the car. Bracing against the cold invading her heart she picked up speed, the wind in her hair, freedom! It was just how she was, commitment frightened her. She pictured his face when he woke to see her gone, the sleepy brown eyes and tousled hair. He’d been good to her she had no complaints… She’d just been here too long…
Rounding a corner into darkness she never saw the ice. The bike twisted careening into the ditch as she was thrown clear. Agony shot up her leg. Shadows swam and span…
Sometime later she came to, the pain subdued to a numb ache. Her gloves felt sticky. Raising hands to her face she sniffed – blood. She yelled into the darkness, but there was no one to hear…
She must stay awake, try to keep warm, but movement was agony. She pulled her hat down over her ears, remembering the warmth of his body beside her, the protective arm resting across her waist as he slept…
Lights swam in the darkness, twin beams glaring, delirious with pain she thought he was there; lifting her in his arms, but pain eclipsed her dreams in agony.
She felt warm and comfortable, didn’t want to wake. He was beside her holding her hand, telling her he loved her. It didn’t matter, it was just a dream. She could let him say the words…
It was afternoon when she woke from the sedation. Lights gleamed on tacky hospital walls. Her leg was encased in plaster from the hip down but the pain had receded. Someone must have found her. She looked around.
“Why you’s awake!” A cheery voice piped. “We was worried about you, came in half frozen, but you’s gonna be OK now. Thank God he found ya when he did!”
“Who found me?”
“The guy that’s been sitting here all day long. That’s who! Guy with a leather jacket with an eagle!” It was then she knew.
“Where is he now?”
“Went to get some food, hadn’t eaten all day. You’ll be wanting something yourself soon.” The nurse continued on her way.
She didn’t feel like eating, she felt sick, released by her dark ordeal emotions escaped the cage in which she’d kept them bound, dreams melted into reality yelling their message.
The door opened. He stood, his face contorted with remorse.
“I’m sorry, so sorry,” he cracked out. “I heard you rev the bike. I had a feeling you’d run for it. Ain’t no way I could make a woman like you happy. I followed you but the darned car wouldn’t start. I looked all over town but you weren’t there. I just wanted to say goodbye and make sure you were OK, but I couldn’t find you…”
“You’re not mad?”
“Me, no. I always knew what kind of woman you were. I jus’ wanted to keep you safe.”
“So you came looking.”
“Yeh.” Reaching out her arms she held him tight.
“I realized something out there on the road,” she murmured. “I realized I need someone to look out for me, someone who’ll come looking.”