During therapy, the topic of love comes up pretty much every single day.
The other day I was trying to figure out how to explain love to people. Mostly due to people misinterpreting “the butterfly feeling” as an absolute sign that it is “true love!” Typically, when I hear that response, I have to hold back my gag reflex. Love is not described by insects, unless you use the metaphor of cockroaches, that no matter how hard you try the fricking things won’t leave you alone, then in that case I may be on board. However, fluttery, beautiful creatures, frolicking in the depths of your tummy is just not the case.
I tried so hard to think of something that made sense for my group and unfortunately, I never really nailed it. However, today, I figured it out.
Love is like that of a mustang.
At first glance you notice its beauty. You notice every smooth edge, the sweet smell of the interior, and the purr of its engine. That there, that’s the butterfly feeling.
Once you’re together for a while, you notice the stains on the seat, the crack in the windshield, and the sputter at the stop sign. Those annoyances irritate the mess out of you, maybe looking for a new car is in order if this one quits running right.
You know if it’s absolute true love when you notice the rusted out brake lines, the loud bang of the car backfiring, every mark, dent, or sign of rust, the engine is starting to fail, and the exhaust pipe is dragging the ground, and after all that, you’re not only wanting to, but are proud to drive it anyway. That my friend, is love.