Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Why do people love me so much...


Why do people love me so much; that they get so obssessive and possessive about me, wondered I...

Maybe I am sounding a bit pompous and self centered, but many a times in our lives we are surrounded with people who love us so much, that we are overwhelmed. Our parents, spouse, kids and close friends and relatives. Sometimes, the love may be a bit too possessive, especially when it comes to your child who'd love to be around you 24*7 and hates the thought of anyone else talking to you and taking you away from him.
I guess the protective love from our parents is the most purest form of Love. Its simply giving without expecting anything back in return. Sometimes looking back I feel guilty for taking their Love for granted. Today, having matured with age, I have learnt to give back love to them. I look at my son and I see history repeating itself.
To my thinking, the love in friendship is the most easy going one. Most of the time its mutual among close friends and they are the people we always confide in the thoughts and feelings that we cannot tell anyone else. They say blood is thicker than water, but down the walk of life I have forged some really close relationships with some non- blood relatives, so much that I consider them my soulmates. They are my life line and I lean back on them as they can give me some unbiased advice when I need it.
Finally, I guess if you are lucky enough (I am, touchwood!!) the love of a spouse is what completes the circle of your Love. Here's a nice poem summing the love (by Laura Veronica Merodio)

A stranger you were once.
Then, with a gentle look you took my hand.
As our lives engaged,
you lit my life and I held both your hands.
Now that decades have passed,
ours souls have indeed become one.
How fortunate we are
that we have found the love so true
that everyone dreams about.

Finally summing up, as F.P Jones has said, 'Love doesn't make the world go round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile.'

No comments:

Post a Comment