Poetically - about love

2024 Author: James Gerald | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-17 14:00

"You're in my blood, honey, like a slow-acting poison." I don't remember where I read these terms, but I liked it. What other, more accurate words can express the all-consuming effect of love? "You are in my blood, my dear, like a slow-acting poison."

"The relationship between a man and a woman is measured by only one measure - the measure of love." I do not know. But when I imagine one of my friends, I remember how he sometimes hugs me, in a friendly way … as always, sincerely glad to see me and is always ready to help. I quite sincerely tell him: "Gavrichek, I love you!" And he just as sincerely replies: "Helen, I love you too." At the same time, I have a young man, and he has a girlfriend. Such a relationship is stronger than any love.

"I hate all men. All are mean!" These are the words of the deaf Yai from "The Land of the Deaf". Yes, they hurt us so often. And the most painful of all are those who are truly dear. First they beg for the phone, then they don’t call. They take you to the disco and make eyes at your friend. They do not ask if you need to meet you when you come home late, they do not accompany you when you leave, because they are very busy at work. They raise their eyebrows in surprise: how, did I promise you something? As if they promise only in words.

"I will never, never fall in love! One has only to love a man and he kills you! It is worth showing a man that he is dear to you, and he kills you!" This is how the actress Justina screamed in the novel "The Thorn Birds". This is about unrequited love. Does such love have a right to exist? If it is, it means it has. What for? Do not know. But how can you refrain from flying towards the fire, which will burn to death - if apart from this light you see nothing around. How many more women's hearts will be shattered by love?

I recall the story of my favorite writer Victoria Tokareva "Say or not say". In it, the ugly Artamonova loved the complex and married Kireev for a long time. And all she was tormented - to say or not to tell him about it. Then she took it away from him - and again suffered: "Should I speak or not?" Have an abortion - yes or no? Did not say. I was ashamed. And 30 years later I met him again, aged and aged. And then he says: "I've been waiting for you all my life." Who is guilty? "A woman always strives for someone who is too tough for her. And condescends to someone who loves her." "From shared love, children are born, from unrequited love, songs." "Lying alone is for the grave. In life you have to lie, languishing with tenderness, clinging to a man's shoulder." This is also Tokareva.

Scientists have already proved that love is a certain chemical reaction of the body to external stimuli: to its smell, to its voice, to the biological composition of its cells. Has the mechanism - sorry for the technical word - become clearer for love? Unlikely. And only the woman herself knows why one likes a brunette, and the other a blonde. Why one loves obedience, and the other - imperiousness. And why are we, so clever, so independent, so irreplaceable at work, so strong, waiting for hours for his call and blossoming with happiness, hearing his voice? "Take away the medicine - the disease of love is incurable" - Pushkin wrote this at the beginning of the 19th century. Disease? Yes, apparently, this is a disease. Maybe in 21st doctors will invent a vaccine against this virus? But until then, the only possible recipe for female happiness is to be loved by the one you love.