Love?

I often don’t remember the things that I write, or the things that I say, or anything for that matter. Which sometimes, I suppose, makes me a good point of repository for information. But that is not the point of this post really.

 

This one is about love and worry.

 

I tell him to “drink less”, “watch your alcohol intake”, “not drink and drive”, “take a cab home if you exceed the two drink limit”, “drink more water”, all this in the name of love. Because I love him.

 

Something got me thinking today – is it really love and altruistic reasons that drive the incessant nagging? Do I really say these things “for his own good, because I love him”? Or do I really say it for my own selfish reasons – Because I want him to live longer, so I can spend more time with him? Or because I don’t want him to become my burden if his liver fails on him or if his alcohol intake creates more health problems I don’t want to deal with?

 

I am questioning my actions and intentions because I’m not so sure of myself anymore. Why stop him if he enjoys drinking and hanging out with his friends to drink? We’re all terminal, so why not let our hair down, and enjoy today?  What if tomorrow never comes?  Carpe diem.

 

Maybe it is a bit of both. Maybe – just because we are human – we are never truly able to love fully and unconditionally. So if we’re unable to love unconditionally, which the term “love” connotes, can we call it love in the first place? Perhaps it should be called “marshmallow” or “selfish”.