Why do you love them?

Crossposted to LJ because I linked to Ezel’s comic here. Yes, life is all about moving on… or at least growing up.

Musings begin here.

Love isn’t static. It’s not meant to be static, because like everything around us, it changes.

The only constant, they say, is change.

Likewise with love.

Was thinking back on a question someone asked me, “Why do you love them?” and I realised that my answers keep changing. Each time I’m confronted by that phrase, I ask myself, what is it that I see in them that makes me love them?

And I realise that my answer is always different, because when you love someone and you’re in a relationship with them, you keep discovering new things about them, and that can either make you fall in love with them more or sour your love.

So if someone asks you why you’re in love with this/that person, don’t be afraid if your answer’s not the same as your first. After all, as humans, we do get bored of the same old but that doesn’t mean we get bored of the person.

You should only start worrying if you can’t find a single redeeming quality of that person in your eyes. :P

Each day, I’m discovering new things. About myself, about him, about those around us. Life’s a never-ending learning process, and the only thing we can do is to keep walking on and holding on.

Here, have a comic from Ezel!

One thought on “Why do you love them?

  1. Hmm, tough call.

    Thing is, I guess I’m a bit more static. If asked why I love someone, my answer tends to be the same; be it why I adore my mother, my uncle, or even why I think a girl in Malaysia is so great my answer is pretty much the same as it was two years ago.

    Ten years ago, for the first two.

    It’s not the niggling little details or the habits, it’s not how they dress or what they eat at breakfast. I don’t care for people because of superficialities that are subject to change, but for the real true down-at-the-core issues that make up who they are. Their passions, their motivations, their own style that’s uniquely them.

    If my mother stopped weaving or my uncle stopped reading sci-fi or Malaysian girls stopped posting diatribes about the state of their country, would that change one iota of my fondness? Try again.

    Still, there are people who stop caring, stop thinking, stop giving a damn and abandon their standards and self-respect, or just lower said standards until everything they do counts as a win, up to and including a month of sitting on a couch eating KFC and watching sitcoms until they fall asleep. That’s the sort of thing where I have a problem.

    Honestly, with anyone I care about, I couldn’t tell you why. I could tell you how it came to be, things I appreciate about them and things I can’t stand and things we like to do together… but why do I care?

    Why ask why?

Comments are closed.