Is someone trying to tell me something?

You know, I got to thinking about this last night after I left work, because another poster recently sent me a question about love, and my response included infatuation. If, by chance, that poster is reading this thread, then please take the following as a qualifying addendum, and not a recantation.

It’s my opinion that while infatutation is a quite different thing from love, there’s no need for ol’ Annie to slam the shit out of it like this (and I know that it isn’t necessarily something she wrote, but I’m still holding her wrinkled butt responsible). I myself have been down on infatuation of late, but I realized last night that it’s very often a prelude to love instead of a substitute. Now, I understand that for some people infatuation is all the farther a relationship goes. But for others, it’s a necessary situation that needs to exist before love does. I also agree that love can occur quite without a period of infatuation, thank you very much. It’s very possible for friends to realize that feelings they have actually run deeper than they originally thought (mind you, in my case, this has always been a one-sided revelation, but I’m not bitter!!I’m not bitter!!!). In such instances, the knowledge of the other’s idiosyncrasies and shortcomings is first-hand and experienced, so there’s no fear of overlooking or ignoring those qualities or faults.
Perhaps it’s better to explain my point like this. I think infatuation is along the lines of silk sheets on a night with a thunderstorm. It’s sexy as all get out, you’re sliding all over the place, you’re going at it like the world’s over with, there’s silk all around you. Maybe the lightning and the thunder work you up so much you have to go outside and stomp in the puddles and kick water at each other and then finally end up doing it on the hood of the neighbor’s car, then come back in and eat chocolate strawberries and champagne for breakfast.
Love, on the other hand, is flannel sheets. Plaid flannel sheets. With a quilt. It’s warm and you don’t want to get out of bed. It’s only drizzling outside, probably, but it’s a slow one, and there’s mist hanging in the air. There’s no champagne for breakfast; it’s scrambled eggs and greasy sausage and milk and toast. But that smell has something more to it than champagne ever will. And after breakfast, you step outside and take a walk in the mist, and then stop somewhere along the way, a little out of sight, and go for one of those long, wet, mushy, squishy kisses where there’s nothing left of you except your tongue and lips and teeth and whatever’s on the ends of your hands.
The step between these two come when it’s time to change the sheets. 'Cause it’s bound to happen sometime. Do you stick around for flannel and sausage, or take off for new silk and the neighbor’s car? That’s how you tell-look back at the bed and figure out what sheets are on it.
Man, now I really wanna kiss somebody. Bad. With lots of tongue.

Then he said, “That is that.”
And then he was gone.
-Dr. Seuss, * The Cat in the Hat*

Well, said. Really, really well said. Fortunately, in the right situation, you can slip on the silk sheets and go at it on the neighbors car- even in the middle of a deep love. That’s the best of both worlds- comfy flannels and occasionally jumping into the silk sheets. Bliss.

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Zette…About the anonymous part. Yes I am at a crossroads and I have well meaning friends, but that’s a part of my life I wish to keep private. I read this article thinking it was a good way to differentiate between the two, but then the more I read it, the more I thought there were crossovers. I just wanted the opinions of those who have been there, and that is what you all have given me. I thank you

Flyp… love the sheet analogy… worked for me! Now where did I put those satin sheets!

Too moralistic and lacking some important data (Ann Landers’ version I mean).

There is loving someone and there is being “in love with” someone. Being in love with someone feels great and is a wonderful high and, although not identical with simply having the hots for someone, it isn’t separable from it. When you are in love with someone, your eating and sleeping habits get disrupted, you sigh a lot and you think of the other person all the time. You tend to see him or her through the proverbial rose-colored glasses. Prolonged absence from the other makes you miserable. You walk around on a giddy high, full of confidence and cheer and nothing else gets you down. If you break up, the withdrawal effects are horrendous and can drive you to suicide. (Chocolate helps). All this is a partially chemical body state, not just a deep and sincere appreciation for the other person. You can fall in love with a jerk; you can get your feelings hurt; it is still your hormones talking; it is vividly REAL but it isn’t identical with loving someone.

Usually you love the person you are in love with, but not necessarily vice versa. Love is more akin to friendship, with shared pleasure and enjoyment of each other’s company but less of the intensity of being in love, and it does not require or induce a sexual component. Folks tend to love their children, parents, siblings, best friends, etc., not just their sexual lovers.

Meanwhile, there is also just plain old “hot to trot and that one looks cute”. You can have these feelings for a pinup photo or movie star, not just someone you really know. It is more immediate and more superficial and anonymous than being in love, and, although intense, nowhere near as much as falling in love; the strong feelings don’t last as long and the risk of getting hurt is far less.

Designated Optional Signature at Bottom of Post

Anyone who thinks it is necessary to send you an Ann Landers column, especially anonymously, needs to be coated in honey and fed to the ants.
If they are trying to tell you something, they need to use their own words, not that of a hypocritical old bat who has been spewing nonsense since my mother was a kid.
Love, other than the obligation one feels toward family, does not exist. It is a notion that was created early on so people could have an excuse to have sex other than for the purpose of procreation. After sex was condoned by this thing called love, there was marriage. This is a concept created in order to keep sex between couples so no one had to share their goodies unless they wanted to. Then there was adultery: the concept created by naughty people who didn’t want to be faithful in marriage because sex was more important than a surreal notion called love.
Now we are approaching the Millenium. Love has been redefined by everyone and really its meaning is structured by every living person to be whatever suits their purposes best. Love can be about sex, beauty, revenge, spite or even just a strong desire to try the things that they suggest in Trojan Man commercials (horse optional).
I choose to accept that love does not exist except as a form of self-delusion. Not that self-delusion is entirely a bad thing… :slight_smile:

My point is…ignore the message. Figure out what you think. It is ultimately all that matters when it comes to the subject of love.

“One evening I pulled Beauty down on my knees.
I found her embittered and I cursed her.”
–Excerpt from Une Saison en Enfer
–A. Rimbaud

Ya’ know, I think CatRimbaud is gonna fit in just fine.

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Punch Bill Gates