With all your faults, I love you still
I’ve been thinking the past couple days about Kelsey’s comment concerning infatuation versus love, which I thought was actually (or do I mean “surprisingly? " jk!) meritorious. At this point I’ve come up with at least two ways to explain how I make the distinction. The first way essentially involves where the pertinent emotion is generally located in my body, coupled with visual representations to express the quality and strength of aforementioned emotion itself. But I’d have to do that explanation in person, and obviously that’s not possible here. I thought for a second about making a video explaining it, but…no. So let’s move on to the second way.
The second way in which I would distinguish love versus infatuation essentially involves the role of the other person's personal faults. Everyone has them. Except me. But since I can’t marry myself, I unfortunately must learn to endure the faults of others. The way I see it, when you’re infatuated, you basically fail to see the faults of the other person—possibly if not largely because you either don’t know them that well and/or you’ve constructed a false mental image of them in your head.*
* Which I guess is sort of redundant, since where else would you construct a mental image other than in your head? I suppose if you were Matt Parkman's father you could construct one in other people's heads.
In love, however, you recognize their faults. I often hear people say, “I love her despite her faults.” But I don’t really like that phrase, and I feel it’s inaccurate. It implies you essentially tolerate the other person’s shortcomings. But if you truly love the person, I think you can do better than mere tolerance.
The next level would be loving someone FOR their faults, to which I used to subscribe. The example I most frequently used was my dog, whose most irritating quality (his complete and utter refusal to follow any semblance of a basic command) I also found the most endearing. It was what made Boomer Boomer. For a long time I felt this applied to the person I loved as well. However, I’ve since moved away from it.
The point I’m at now is where I recognize her faults, I’m quite aware of them, I could catalogue them with overdone specificity…but in the end I really don’t give a Sherpa. They’re largely irrelevant. You need an example? Sort of like how the world is round. It’s a fact, I believe it, I recognize it as such, if only because my name isn’t Sherri Shepherd. But somehow I don't really care; it's totally irrelevant to my life, despite the fact that at the same time it’s a rather critical aspect of the world upon which I walk. Oh, right, the world is round. Whatever. Oh, right, she's passive-aggressive. Whatever. What was the question again?