Honest love, which is characteristic of noble people, whether they be rich or poor, is not generated by desire, like the other, but by reason. It has as its main goal the transformation of oneself into the object of one's love, with a desire that the loved onebe converted into oneself, so that the two may become one or four....
And as this transformation can only take place on a spiritual plane, so in this kind of love, the principal part is played by the "spiritual" senses, those of sight and hearing and, above all, because it is closest to the spiritual, the imagination. But, in truth, as it is the lover's wish to achieve a corporeal union besides the spiritual one, in order to effect a total identification with the beloved, and since this corporeal unity can never be attained, because it is not possible for human bodies to be physically merged into one another, the lover can never achieve this longing of his, and so will never satisfy his desire. --Tullia D'Aragona (1510-1556)
I read and reread this Tullia D'Aragona quote (note to self: read up on this woman), trying to fit her ideas together with Lacan. "Honest love" sounded a lot like the love of the subject for the Other. But perhaps it is something different-- the "transformation" driven by love instead of desire.
Anthony proposed to me on the Manhattan side of the Williamsburg Bridge, looking out over the water in East River Park. It was a warm July night, I was 6 months pregnant and severely creeped out by the area. We had walked through an eerily quiet area of projects to get there, and behind us was a poorly lit playground. We sat on a bench facing the water and talked. I think we were arguing about something, but I don't remember exactly what. He started telling me how much I meant to him (perhaps I had accused him of not loving me enough; give me a break, I was six months pregnant). I turned around to scan the playground; I was sure there was some evil hobo preparing to spring out at us with a knife. As I was turning back to face him, I heard him say "Will you marry me?"
I whipped around to look at him and he was down on one knee. My thoughts fumbled for a second. I wanted to give him crap for popping the question here, because I was still afraid of the imaginary hobos. But I figured it would probably be good to give the standard answer to the standard question, so that we could cherish the memory forever and so forth. "Yes, of course I will." We hugged, kissed, had our little squee about being engaged, and got the hell out of there.
I had been engaged before, and interestingly, that proposal was far more "romantic." It was on top of a mountain in early fall, and the ring was lovely. But that was for all the wrong reasons and the relationship subsequently went downhill faster than a concrete block on wheels.
Anthony and I have been married for a month and a half now, and I think I love him more every day. The most annoying thing about him is that I can't stay annoyed with him. Even when I go to bed irritated by him, I end up forgetting and snuggling with him. He makes me happy.
I was thinking, too, (and I forget if I've written about this before) about how I no longer have to perform. A few weeks ago we were walking down Myrtle Ave, and walked by a teenage girl wedged between two boys her age. I heard that flirtatious tone to her voice. That cutesy persona that I know so well. Boys that age (and even older) fall for that persona. That carefree, flirty, slightly aloof mannerism is completely calculated. I used to do it. I remember well walking home from high school with two or three guy friends, keeping them at arm's length but hopelessly in love with me. An attention-getting performance. I see women younger than me do this with new boyfriends, as well. I feel so freed; I no longer have to perform in any way.
Reminds me of this song:
I'm so tired
Of playing
Playing with this bow and arrow
Gonna give my heart away
Leave it to the other girls to play
Cause I've been a temptress too long
--Portishead, "Glory Box"
I'm sure I probably did "the performance" with Anthony when we were first together, but I don't remember it. Possibly I didn't need to do it, because he was pretty well smitten to begin with. So was I. I still am.
Just for the sake of mushyness (hey, it's almost V-day after all) I'm going to end with a list of things Anthony does that I love.
- Whenever he goes to the store, he feeds my candy addiction by picking up a Butterfinger or a bag of gummy peach rings-- my favorites.
- He wipes the counter and stovetop after washing dishes. He actually does this more often than I do and gives me crap for not doing it.
- He gives me a kiss every day when he gets home from work.
- He cuddles with me every night. Last night he even protested when I pulled out a book in bed, because he wanted to cuddle. I don't know how he achieves this nightly cuddling without his arm going numb.
- He devours whatever I cook, no matter how good it turned out or whether I screwed up on it, and always proclaims it to be delicious. I can't tell if he's lying or not.
- He doesn't mind wearing the baby in the carrier in public. I think he likes to do this, actually, and doesn't see it as an emasculating activity. He will also very willingly push the stroller.
- He gives back rubs whenever I request them, no questions asked, no complaints, no matter how tired or achy he is, and never asks me to return the favor.
- He enthusiastically codes things for me.
- When I have a good idea, he tells me it's a good idea, and does it, instead of whatever less-good idea he had first. (I've had boyfriends who would NEVER do this, so I see it as pretty awesome.)
- He would go out in the cold for me and pick up hamburgers. (Inside joke.)
Love you, pookie. <3