At the risk of having all my posts sound rather cynical, I am going to attempt to dissect this strange feeling humans sometimes get, called "love".
Why cynical you ask? Well, because I believe this "love" business is bandied around far too often. *Insert audible groan from reader on finding yet another pessimistic entry* Bear with...
The question is 'How do you know when you love someone?'. The answer is far from simple. Ask someone 'Do you love this thing, this person, this place?' They may reply 'Yes' or they could reply 'No'. But ask them 'Why' they love that thing, or 'How they know' they love that person, or even 'What' is love, then the answers become much harder to find. To answer how we know when we love someone, you have to first answer what your definition of love actually is.
So, what is love? Is it the tingling of butterflies in your stomach when you see someone? When you want to be with that person every second of every day? Saying 'I love you' to them? For me, my definition of love is probably not best explained in a sentence, but more an example. Whether you believe in him or not, the example of the love God shows for his creations is by far the most fitting definition of what I think love is. He takes these broken creatures and puts them in paradise, but doesn't try to control them, even when they ruin it all. They betray him. They kill each other. They reject him and ignore his presence. If it were Sim City, you'd have already started sending tsunamis and hurricanes to destroy everything before reloading. For all their flaws, all their sins, whatever they've done, God accepts them back. To you, it might just be a silly story in a very long book, but whatever God is to you, it can't be denied that this is some serious love.
If I was to put this into a sentence, it'd be the ability to accept and forgive someone for all their flaws, no matter how it hurts you, and to strive to make them the best they can be, and expect nothing, absolutely zilch, in return. That's my definition of love.
I was reading an article a few weeks ago (Link - Warning, some foul language) on how the world only cares what it can get from you. It's a sad thought, but in many ways, it's true. In a crude comparison, let's look at sports. Not at all about love, but a good metaphor for why I feel "love" is often misused.
Let's say you're brilliant at a sport. You're in a team. You help win games. You're invaluable. The players like you, the captain likes you, you feel like THE man. You get invited to every party the team has. They don't force you to substitute during a game. It's great. Now let's see that same player, but this time, he's terrible. Can't play too well. Lets the opposition get the better of him. Maybe he's injured? He may be a great guy (or girl), but boy can't he play sports. I've had the pleasure (or displeasure depending how you look at it) of being both of these players, sometimes all in the matter of a month!
When you're winning, everyone wins with you. When you lose, you lose alone. The second player has ceased being useful. He knows he might get invited to a drinks or two, but every time he drops a catch, or gets out, or misses a hoop, he knows there's someone on the sideline at least thinking they'd be better off without him on the team. It's simply gotten too hard to let the fact he is terrible at sports right now be acceptable due to the fact he's a nice guy.
'What does this have to do with love AT ALL?' Well, I'm fortunate enough to have a few friends and to know many people in my life. Some I could say I love, some would say they love me. But is it true love? Is it that love I describe above? That Godly, pure love? As a guy, I've been told you don't really have true friends. You have other guys you hang out with and do mutual activities with for a beneficial goal. You may meet with them for a drink. Go play a sport with them. Do a hobby. You're useful to each other. You're there to make sure the other guy isn't drinking alone. Or so that he has someone else to hit a tennis ball at. Or to pick them up. You don't even have to truly like one another all too much if you're really desperate. This may differ for women, but as guys, it's all about the pretence and the avoidance of actual emotion.
What if, just like our poor sports player above, things become harder? I've had friends do it to me, and I've seen it happen to others. You get divorced. You feel depressed. You get dumped from your team. What was once a pleasant mug of beer together instead turns into "feelings" and "mushy" stuff. You're no longer useful as the beer buddy. Your friend is sitting there all sombre and screaming inside his head 'My Lord! You're getting your flaws all over me and it's icky! Stahp!'
So, after this magnificent detour, what I'm getting at is that people may say they love you, but that their definition of love isn't always, if at all, really what it should be (at least by my definition of love). I've had many people say they love me, and I've told many people I love them. But the number of times I've actually experienced that true, Godly form of love which I feel is the purest definition of the term, is very rarely indeed. People may surprise you, but before you say you 'know you love someone', be sure it really is "love". It may very well be the 'I love you, but to a certain point', in which case, can it really be defined as love at all? In a way, there may very well be no people that you really love, or who really love you. A horrific thought. And yet how many people do you know would truly accept and forgive your flaws, and even when times got tough, when you're dropping every proverbial catch and losing all of life's matches, would still stick by you, even if it was to their every disadvantage? For me, the pool would probably be very small indeed, if at all existent. And if I was serious with myself, the number of people I would put myself on the line for to such an extent would be less than I'd like to think.
So now that you know what my definition of love is, and how I got to it, you know my answer to how I'd know when I love someone. When my wife is bloated and screaming at me in a hormone ridden rage from pregnancy, and demanding some obscure food at 3am, and I do everything she asks and do not care, and still somehow find her beautiful, that's how I know I love her. When my friend is crying on the phone and I'm tired after a long day, and it's been such a long call you get that sweat build up under you ear and you have to change sides, and still I listen and am perfectly happy to for another hour, that's how I know I love them. When I forgive someone their faults and accept them no matter what, and I do it all without expecting some pay off, no matter how many "catches" they drop or times they put me out, that's how I know I love them.
