I have two definitions for love. The first one states that “love is zealously, selflessly, and unconditionally desiring and pursuing someone’s best.” This is my stated belief. The definition I actually believe about love is this:
Love. A happy feeling that is always wrong and never appropriate. The best that can come from it is to pray that God will eventually deliver you from all desires and circumstances associated with it. This results in the best possible outcome in the situation: relief from the “not right.”
I fantasize about love because, deep down in my soul, I don’t actually believe I will get to know it. Yes, it is real for other people—but not for me. I have been given access as an observer, but not a partaker.
It feels as if there is a glass wall separating me from living in a world where love can find me. I’m always watching. Always seeing. But never experiencing.
Fantasizing—even if it is not sexual or inappropriate—is a cheap substitute for real love, I know. What I don’t think other people know is that imagining what it would be like to be in love seems like the closest thing I will ever have to it. I would rather experience a cheap, fake scene with fictional characters than live my whole life completely isolated from romantic relationships.
Though it is fiction, the world in my head invites me past that glass barrier into a space where love is not only observed but enjoyed, felt, known—experienced. The real world is one where I feel forever disconnected from romantic partnership. Trying to annihilate that fictional world would cut me off from the one “contact” I have with an essential part of being human: love.
Why does it always seem wrong and impermanent? I want what my head believes love is to be what my heart believes as well. I want to know that that love that zealously, selflessly, and unconditionally desires and pursues someone’s good…is real.
Extend your hand, break down the barrier between us until the broken shards of glass scattered on the floor testify to the defeat of my false ideas. Prove me wrong. Show me the fiction in my head is not my only option. Let me come into the real.
This beautiful reflection was written by a very dear friend of mine. One of the many reasons that it’s so beautiful is that I can relate to it! The realization that I have no one to call my own is difficult. The fear that I may be in this lonely state for years is hard to handle.
I’ve given myself over to the fantasy world more times than I can count. Fantasizing is one of my many bad habits, and it often turns into lust. The devil wants me to believe that I can only experience love in my head with fictional relationships. God’s Word tells us otherwise.
We love, because He first loved us. (1 John 4:19 NASB)