Love Can’t Bank On
Pink’s love is not bankable, y’all — for realz!
My love isn’t currency. It is a gift. Sometimes, when I give it, I’m met with suspicion. That astounds me. It’s as if the person thinks I’m trying to bribe them into something. I’ve moved on and they are still sniffing around my love package ready to call the bomb squad. If you see something say something. That’s really unfortunate, since I was probably loving on that person because they had inadvertently earned the admiration. It’s little things that warrant affection—a kind word, a hand, an acknowledging glance in my direction when I’m feeling isolated. Then they have to go and ruin it by treating me shady for gratitude. Gratitude is a form of love. It’s okay. I know about hurt people.
Love is funny that way. It’s something people talk about a lot. Usually, it’s desired. I choke to say everyone about anything, but I’m damn tempted to venture everyone wants love. A person might appear to shun the idea of what they perceive as the love of others. At some point in that cynics existence, however, they yearned for affection and affirmation. It’s in our wiring. That’s the only weapon we come into the world ready to wield. Our cry for love and assistance starts fresh from the womb.
People treat love like it’s a rare commodity when, in fact, love is in surplus. Love is an unlimited resource. We can choose to love anyone we encounter. Love is so bountiful it’s often frittered away on inanimate objects, and not just anthropomorphism of dolls and teddy bears. People love music, even from a loathed composer. People love their cars. People love their clothes. People even love ideas. People will love a phrase, a look, or any passing moment.
It’s out of alignment. We absentmindedly give away love in droves, but when love is requested we get all discriminating. I do. I want people to earn my love, like it’s a paycheck. I kind of put my love up for sale and I don’t think I’m alone, if I’m entitled to an opinion (which apparently I think I am). My love can be bought, but so what, if someone is willing to pay for it. I like to love, though, and I don’t wanna have to wait for someone to buy my love. I also have to accept others as deserving of my love for the sake of their humanity. The payoff is that become worthy to myself of that same love.
It’s generosity and selfish. Love is a blessing we bestow on others, only to have it effect ourselves for the better. It’s the opposite of the hate that drinks poison hoping the other person will die from it. Love is the medicine we administer to someone else to have it heal us. It’s super counter intuitive, but makes sense it would be that way. Nature requires us to want—need—each other, so it plays this trick of mirrors.
I’m banking the idea of limitless love that grants by giving will resonate with most people—many. Still, many—most—will proceed with caution. I say don’t give up trying to break the backwards conditioning. I say fake it until you make it. Worst case, you’ll have fun proving me wrong. Have at it.
—Notorious Pink
