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Monday, April 20, 2015

I Probably Don't Love You Unconditionally

I may love you a LOT, I may love you more than most, but unless you are my son or my nephews, I don't love you unconditionally. It's true. Go ahead. Pick your jaw up off the floor, sweep up the pieces of your shattered heart, and read on.

I think this idea of "unconditional" love is bandied about willy-nilly without much thought as to what it really means. Think about it. Unconditional. There are absolutely NO circumstances, no conditions under which you'll no longer love that person. I'm too logical, too realistic to say that about most anyone.

I love my husband terribly. (This is quite the Happy Anniversary blog, huh, honey?) There are precious few conditions that could crop up that would cause the love to disappear, but they are there. If he were to hurt my son (I mean hurt my son, not accidentally hit him in the face with a ball while playing a raucous game of catch in the backyard), the love would surely die.

I love some of my friends I've known for a long time and some I've known for a short time, but have wheedled their way into my heart, but I don't love them unconditionally. They surely get more chances than most others get, they're given a greater berth for hurtful screw ups, but there is a limit to what I'll put up with. It's a large limit, but it's there, to be sure.

If one repeatedly proves to me that I am of little importance to them, I will gracefully bow out of the relationship. The process will hurt, but the love will eventually fade. It just will. If one hurts my son or someone else I love, I'll swiftly run from the relationship. The process will hurt, but the love will fade (probably just as swiftly as my sprint from the person). That's really the litmus test for me. If a person hurts my son, will I still love them? If not, then I can't honestly say I love that person unconditionally, because that is, of course, a condition.

This really bothers some people. I'm not entirely sure why, though, other than it's a bruise to their egos. I can think of precious few people who love me unconditionally. I know I am loved by several, but only unconditionally by a scant few. Love is wonderful, beautiful, magical even. It is not, for the most part, unconditional.

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