There are 2 types of people. People who have lost some they romantically loved and those that haven’t. Let me be explicit. A person who died, either by violence or not.
The people without this get to have the luxurious illusion of the one true love. That somehow they have the secret. That they have their forever, their true, love.
On the one hand I am envious of their illusion. It is a warm place. A safe place. On the other, I fear for them. What happens when the glass bubble shatters. What happens when they know loss. Do they, then begin to wither? For one thing to be true for so long has the danger of becoming truth. And Truth is hard to recover from.
Those of us who knew loss early, know that each love is different. Each love has its own existence, its own feel. And, sadly, there is no one true love. Each love is flawed and each love is perfection.
Tragedy wakes us to this. We know that the one true love thing is a myth. We know because it can’t possibly be true. And, for myself, why I hate anything that speaks of predestination or everything happening for a reason. Things happen because of chance or because someone took a course of action. Often, several someone’s. But there is no grand design moving us all to some predestined ideal. This is another illusion.
I’m not saying that there is not powerful, strong love. I’m saying that the one true love is a trap. A lie that comforts. Treat each person with dignity, respect, and affection. Treat them with desire, if you desire them. Act courageously. Love completely.
But don’t fall into the logical fallacy of ‘one true love’. It not only isn’t true. It must not be true.