Love is not Beautiful

I bet this is a pleasant surprise for the other Piny Pek bloggers (especially, particularly Archer).

I didn't even know that I could still contribute to this blog.

And I feel so out of the loop and even misplaced.

But here's something that I wrote March 29 (I think); it's my most recent writing:

Love is not beautiful; love is selfish. The Sonnets of the Portuguese are not beautiful, because they are about love. And when in love, you forsake all others, your family and your friends—those who are indeed beautiful. I once browsed through a book called 1000 Beautiful Things—none of it was beautiful, because love was written on its every page.

A kiss is not beautiful; it is disgusting—two tongues reeling about like snakes mating. And it is the very symbol of love, of a disgusting love.

Sex is above all the least beautiful, especially when it is done by two people in love. From heaven, they must look like featherless birds flapping. Even sex derived from lust is more beautiful than two people in love, twisting and entangling their bodies in and out. For some time they are one, and then they are separate; then they are one again. Sex without love is beautiful—because lusty, foul humans wallow in pleasure. They don’t feel the longing desire that people in love feel as they are separate and must function with this hidden secret—that for some time they were whole.

They don’t feel the ache of a human-shaped hole ripped from their bodies—just to fit perfectly together by nightfall and torn apart by day break. Twenty-four hours is measured differently by people who are in love; it is divided into pieces—the times with which they love and the times with which they don’t even exist. As if to say, I love you or I am not at all.

And in this moment of inexistence, it has taken one good-bye kiss, one morning-after, one day of silence before the longing sets in. Sex without love is for actors, trying to taste heaven without repercussion. For a single moment, they think they’re in love, the curtains close, they bow their heads to ravenous applause, and they slither away to soak in their diluted pleasures.

Because sex with love is very different, indeed. Lovers are not actors, merely seeking self-centered pleasures. Love by nature isn’t selfish, it is very beautiful.

- Evon R. Christian