I'm watching this programme at the moment about Polygamy.
It's not something I would ever consider, although we did slightly consider a more kibbutzim style of living when Welshbint's relationship, my relationship, and R's relationship all fell apart at the same time. It was going to be great. R would go to work, I would homeschool the many children, and Welshbint would go to college and learn to be a teacher. It was a joking dream. R and I weren't together then, we were just all friends, who needed a safe and loving place to be, and we had that in each other.
There are many, many ways to love. I love my son. I love BG. I love R. I love my parents. 3 generations of love, in different forms. I love my brother and my sister, differently, but the same. I love the cat. (I'm quite fond of the guinea pig, but.... well..... he's a guinea pig!) I am fascinated by Dave and by the fish.
I have friends I love, that I would do anything for. SiM. Welshbint. Oxford-Rachel. Godfather Fat. People like that.
Love is such a powerful emotion, such a huge thing, and yet we take it for granted. "I love spaghetti."
Love is, essentially, wanting the best for someone, working towards that person having the best, regardless of personal cost. I've just typed that, reread it, and suddenly realised that God did that. He wanted the best for us, and worked to wards it, regardless of personal cost.
I need to think on that. I'm almost grokking it, but not quite.