Ar­bi­trary cog­i­ta­tion­son Valen­tine’sDay

Sun.Star Pampanga - - OPINION -

MY FA­VORITE def­i­ni­tion of love is, “It is a feel­ing be­tween two hearts dec­o­rated with pity, quar­rel, and rec­on­cil­i­a­tion.” This def­i­ni­tion gave me three chil­dren. It is still a part of my ad­vo­cacy and it gives me (still) “bounce back abi l i t y.”

On Valen­tine’s Day, we re­mem­ber Cupid. His is the God of erotic love who in West­ern art is por­trayed as a mis­chievous boy or young man with wings and a quiver who shoots ar­rows into the hearts of the mor­tals. “Gold-tipped ar­rows” are for love and “lead­tipped ar­rows” are for hate.

Once (be­fore my mar­riage), my Hindu friend in the teach­ing pro­fes­sion taught me “sex­ual va­ri­ety” from Ananga Ranga, an In­dian love man­ual for mar­ried cou­ples… mon­key, crab, split­ting bam­boo, etc. “These po­si­tions keep a re­la­tion­ship alive!” It made me laugh but I did not try one. A com­bi­na­tion of all those is more ef­fec­tive.

Valen­tine’s Day is about love… boy and girl, man and woman. Some­times you just have to ac­cept that some peo­ple can only be in your heart, but not in your life. Love is full of chal­lenges. You may or you may not make it. Ex­pect­ing is the crime; dis­ap­point­ment is the pun­ish­ment. In lov­ing, you have to learn to live half alive.

Don’t be a road-en­der in love. When life throws you le­mons just bring out the tequila. Even the gays have their per­sonal in­volve­ment in love (no hid­ing of self). When asked, “Are you gay or straight?” The ex­pected pos­si­ble an­swer is, “Straight, straight girl!”He can­not hide that he is “gay pos­i­tive”.

On Valen­tine’s Day (or even be­fore), you should do some soul-search­ing. Who knows, you might find one your­self. Do not trust in front of the mir­ror. Mir­rors don’t talk and they don’t laugh ei­ther. Men should know their roles… boys, too. On this day boys want to be pop­u­lar. Men seek to be re­spected. Boys make girls laugh (or cry). Men make ladies moan and scream.

It can­not be avoided. Some­one has to chase and some­one would love to get caught, or it could be the other way around. That could be bad. If what is ex­pected did not ma­te­ri­al­ize, some­one would in­sult and some would be in­sulted. If you are in­sulted by some­one who is the ob­ject of your love… think pos­i­tive. “Your in­sult would hurt me more if it were gram­mat­i­cally cor­rect.

Hat­ing me won’t make me ugly; and pretty ei­ther.

Old men may have a dif­fer­ent in­ter­pre­ta­tion of Valen­tine’s Day. They would like to be­lieve that their once “strong di­nosaur” is al­ready ex­tinct. They can still be pro­duc­tive by think­ing of their beau­ti­ful women in the past and say, “They are frigid and mine is rigid.” It goes with­out say­ing that you could plant ba­con and it would grow into a Ba­con Tree. Just pick them all when they are crunchy al­ready.

A hus­band and a wife may go out on Valen­tine’s Day for a change. If they de­cide to stay at home to avoid traf­fic con­ges­tion, that could be per­fect. They should sim­ply lock the mas­ter’s bed­room so that the chil­dren could not dis­turb them. Don’t for­get to write this out­side the door, Crime Scene: Do Not En­ter. It is ef­fec­tive. You can cross your heart and hope to die.

For the old maids, you may be sin­gle but des­per­ate. Ac­cept the fact that you are like a beer… su­per dry but some­one have to prove it. If you don’t, you are a field of roses wasted on you. You can try and tell me later on. I wish you all the best of luck!

Mall dat­ing is a fad on Valen­tine’s Day. When you see a “hot chick” with a su­per ugly boyfriend that is not a re­la­tion­ship; that is a hostage sit­u­a­tion! One can make many con­clu­sions. Love doesn’t die. It can only be si­lenced. When love is no longer blind, it doesn’t like what it sees. It could be that one loves too much, and the other loves too many.

Love for each other should not die but it does not al­ways work that way. Love dies when you now ask, “Why?” Later, you will ask, “Why not?” Some­times, it slowly dies with every pound she gains. Love dies (to a man) when you can no longer of­fer any “wood” that will keep the “fire” burn­ing. Love may die to make room for a new one. Love is flex­i­ble as that.

In the fam­ily, love dies be­cause you let it. It could die be­cause of two women (third party) stand­ing in be­tween the hus­band and wife… Mis(s) com­mu­ni­ca­tion and Mis(s) un­der­stand­ing. Hus­band and wife should re­move the “tan­gled wires” in their life. They should tell each other, “You are re­ally hard… to be for­got­ten. You are my “hap­pi­est hello” and my “sad­dest good­bye.”

In it­self, love is not per­fect. Make it per­fect. To fall in love is aw­fully sim­ple; to fall out of love is sim­ply aw­ful. Some good things never last, most don’t even start. Start lov­ing and make it last. Happy Valen­tine’s Day!— Ver F. Pacete it won’t make you

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