Codesmith

Life, Or Something Like It
2006-09-08 12:51:20 (UTC)

Love and Grace

It's 0908, Friday. 832am. Grey, cloudy. The vast atmosphere
with all it's enormity looks nothing more to me than the
dark depths of some diluted herbal tea. A twinge of some
polluted dark jade colour or perhaps the murky depths of
some clouded river who's bottom bed were composed of dark
clay, and not the usual dirt.

I think, I might start writing every day from now on.
Whereas people might drink or have their coffee every
morning, ... this is my coffee. I need this to carthatically
remove that whichever is in me. At least, for the time being.

Although, like all things, I have started to remember that I
dislike time limits. Maybe it is because I can never fully
express all that I ever want to express. Or maybe, more
subtly, I never have the time to fully exhaust all that I
wish to exhaust. Exhaustion and full expression are two
different things of course. Whereas exhaustion is the full
traversal of all possible ideas, expression is more of a
carefully chosen subset of all possible ideas.

With that said, I shall go back to what I was talking about
in my last entry. Love.

I should have it note that I dislike talking about love for
it's always constant reminder and possibility that I am just
being "emo." Certainly such behaviour is always discouraged,
at least, I actively try to discourage it within my own
personality.

But, anyhow. Love. If we were to use the old definition I
presented earlier, then Love for me would simply be the
pursuit of some kind of romantic relationship. Now, it is my
question to determine if I had wanted that with the other
person I had previously mentioned. I think before I should
try to attempt that question, it would be more logical to
try to determine the range of feelings I felt for her. For
certainly I grouped everything under the classification of
"Love", and I did so haphazardly without really ... putting
it more clearly.

Like going to the doctor and the doctor asking you what is
wrong, and all you say is, "hurt." I mean, although that is
certainly a good summary of the reason for your presence, it
does really little in attempted diagnosis.

I certainly "loved" her. But, I think I was more impacted by
her style. Her sense of grace. Her love, and sweetness. Her
authenticity. There was no complaining save for the things
that required complaining. And, there was no selfishness on
her part. She was, in every way, someone whom I had found to
possess many of the qualities I found to be ... perfect.

To say the word perfect also requires clarification much the
same way the word "love" does. I think with perfect, what I
really meant to say was that she possesed a vast majority of
all the ideals I had ever thought to be proper of someone
who was ... well balanced. Someone, logical, yet not overly
logical and controlled by it. Someone, sweet, but not to the
point where she would allow herself taken advantaged of.
Someone, gorgeous, but not to the point where it overtook
every bit of her.

Perfection, I think in just this context, is simply the
balancing of two extremes and never being one or the other.
To pick one or the other at whim, and to be whichever most
suited her at the moment. Not to say she was without
direction, but that she was not controlled by her
characteristics. She controlled them.

While she certainly had standards, she was always willing to
bend them whenever it suited others. But, never enough to
the point where she was compromised. As sad as it is to say,
I do not believe I have met many people of that mindset.

For those reasons, I "loved" her. And like I said, "love"
was only partial to how I felt towards her. While the other,
I believe, was that I felt she was perfect, there was also
other parts to how I felt as well.

As for the other aspects of my attraction for her ... I
shall leave that for another time.




Ad: