love actually

the topic of love has come up a lot in the past couple of weeks. i love the idea of love. i think what people think of as love is the idea of passionate and romantic love. a love where from across a room you catch each other's eyes and in an instant you know, right?
in reality, this love is rare and, in my opinion, isn't really love. the idea of romantic love is sold to us. love is not love, but is a consumer good. when we buy this love, we expect it to happen in our lives. when our investment falls short, we don't blame the product, we blame ourselves. don't get me wrong, i am aware that i consume love in copious amounts. my favorite love investment is "Pride and Prejudice". i watch this movie (the BBC series) constantly. i watch the characters and listen to the language and feel all a twitter with love. after the movie is over and i put the dvd back into the box and place it on the shelf, i feel empty. why?
i have a great partner who loves me on such a more important level. i have a good job, which is amazing and life changing. i have friends who work together in order to support each other. we build community through thought, art, food, and even financial support. this is love.
love is making someone a meal who is feeling desperate. love is dedicating yourself to social justice instead of taking a job that offers more financial security. love is doing the right thing and not looking for something in return.
love can also be romantic, but romance isn't something that can be sustained for long, because romance isn't nurturing or kind, romance is performance.
we feel bad when we don't have consumer love. it is designed that way. if we felt the love that was being sold, then the market would dry up. we wouldn't need to buy romantic love if we could create it ourselves.
so here is a poem to love...

Like you (Como tu)
~Roque Dalton

Like you I
love love, life, the sweet smell
of things, the sky-blue
landscape of January days.

And my blood boils up
and I laugh through eyes
that have known the buds of tears.
I believe the world is beautiful
and that poetry, like bread, is for everyone.

And that my veins don’t end in me
but in the unanimous blood
of those who struggle for life,
love,
little things,
landscape and bread,
the poetry of everyone.