Not too long ago, I used to write these little poems; words of endearment towards a loved one which I hoped would brighten their day. But now I go back to those poems, and I feel like the words are devoid of any meaning whatsoever.
Now, you might roll your eyes at this, thinking ‘Well, of course. That relationship is over. Why would the words still hold meaning?’ And perhaps that is part of the reason. But the larger, less explored issue here is how the language of love has become overused to the point of meaninglessness.
You know how, if you say a word too many times, it starts losing its meaning and you start thinking it just sounds funny? I feel like this is the case now with such proclamations of affection. Think about it; all those phrases and metaphors and grand statements. Waxing poetic on how someone’s face is sculpted like an ancient goddess, or how their eyes catch the light of the sunset, or how their rippling hair seems to remind you of the endless ocean. These all sound nice, but are they really reflective of the love you feel? Or are they just words, bound to be repeated over and over as time goes by?
Mind you, I do not say that those who use it do not mean it. On the contrary, I feel like it’s not easy to come by these words, and so they’re probably being truthful. However, I personally feel like I’ve lost interest in them. You can come up with some colossal proclamation of love, something that belongs in a romance novel for the ages, and I would still feel like it fails to capture the essence of it all.
But why is that the case?
Perhaps it’s become too impersonal, this vocabulary of love we utilize. All these words we share with loved ones, the words we hear in songs and movies and shows every single day. They’ve all become faded, overused and in need of retiring, if only for the sole purpose of giving them meaning again. Otherwise, one day you’ll be told you’re someone’s shining star, and all you’ll manage is a shrug.
‘Sure, like I haven’t heard that before. Boring.’
For me at least, it seems like I’m infinitely more interested in the love we allude to, rather than that we proclaim. The minute details of someone’s life and actions, which reflect the feelings they have for someone else. Beyond any accusations of faking emotion or words, there is a present, unique value to these details that is richer — if not more ornate — than any word I can think of.
So perhaps the next time I write a poem, I’ll think less about the words being written, and more about what the action of writing itself indicates. Maybe then I’ll feel better about it.
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