I just came home from a discussion about love. We were all very aware of the foolishness such a discussion contains by its very nature, but this is a topic that has been on my mind quite a bit lately. I know people often muse amongst themselves concerning the nature of "the one," how do I know who it is? How do I know if this particular person is really it, etc, but I found myself asking the question, how do I know if I'm in love?

This question in turn made me ask myself, how do I define love? Can it be defined? Is love purely emotion and as such, does it defy the naming process of being put into language? I acknowledge all the poetry, music, art, and teenage love notes that have already attempted this, but I don't think their existence answers my question. After all, even with all of these things, we all still question the concept of love on a porch at four o'clock in the morning.

The problem, a commonly accepted one amongst most self-aware, reasonably intelligent people is that there is no "happily ever after." The "I love yous," heartfelt as they may be, are always followed by the morning after--bad breath, unfortunate bed head, and maybe a grumpy demeanor. The days after that are followed by fights, food poisoning, the flu, and any number of other situations and ailments not conducive to tender emotions. And so people deal with this any number of ways; the one I hear most often is that everyone falls in and out of love constantly, hanging on until they fall back in love with the person they've committed to. I don't deny that this is the case for many people, but I question if that is real love or, more importantly, if that is what I want.

Imagine, for a minute, that full disclosure is possible. Imagine that you could be aware of those times your partner isn't in love with you. What would that be like? Knowing that fights, irritation, and disappointment are fairly inevitable, do I want to be with someone that, at times, doesn't actually love me? Is it possible to avoid? To some degree I'm hopelessly naive in this area as I haven't had a serious, long term relationship. Friendships, but not romantic involvements where you see someone on a daily basis. I acknowledge this even as I continue to write as if I know what I'm talking about anyway.

I think love for me is defined the same way I define the one. Specifically, that it isn't an end. What I mean by that is that there is no happily ever after. It doesn't ever stop. Being in love doesn't cease the roller-coaster of emotion anymore than finding the person I want to spend the rest of my life with means they were the only person of all the people in the world I could have felt that way about, and being with them guarantees happiness. If it's an ongoing process, something that has to be worked on every day, a constant evolution that never ceases to need my attention, even if it is easier some days than others, then not only does it become a whole lot less romantic, it also becomes a whole lot more scary. It means that happiness is not guaranteed and my happiness is not assured. It means that all the annoyances I have regarding my lack of a relationship don't go away, but are only replaced with new ones. That idea is absolutely opposite what society has formed and defined as "love."

More importantly, though, it means that entering into any sort of romantic relationship carries significantly more weight than it did before. It means I can't just meet someone, work it out, and then sit back and enjoy the ride. It means that being in love requires an active, conscious role from me every day. That's exhausting to ponder. The thrill of love is that it is supposed to be an end; once you love and someone loves you, you're supposed to be generally happy and content. The love is supposed to be the end.

But I don't think it is. And, I think it is knowledge of this, conscious or not, that oftentimes causes fear of marriage or the idea of "the old ball and chain" as it were. When we're not blissfully happy, all the time, we assume it isn't love or that there's something wrong with us, or whatever. We never question if this "love" we have isn't actually love, but only what we were taught to believe is love. This is also why I think so many single, divorced, and/or cynical people doubt other people's love. They see couples that are working on loving each other every day and see only that it is different than what love is supposed to be, not the possibility that that is actually what love is. The two seem irreconcilable.

But how many people have the maturity, self awareness, or mental fortitude to be conscious of their own evolution, needs, and feelings every day, let alone someone else's? That's exhausting--even just to think about. There's nothing sexy, or spontaneous, or fun about that. That's too much like real life, like an obligation.

But what if that isn't the case? Ignorance is definitely bliss, but what if the cost of knowledge, high though it may be is worth it? What if the added pain and inconvenience brings with it greater happiness and self fulfillment? I like my definition of love--I find it more real, inconvenient though it may be.

But it still doesn't answer the question how do I know if I'm in love or that someone is even worth the pain of true love? But that's something to ponder some other morning at four o'clock on the porch.