When You Love Somebody | #MyFridayStory No. 353

Have you ever loved somebody with every fibre of your being—so much that you would happily die for that person? And how about the other way around? Have you ever felt so loved that you could burst with pleasure? I am speaking here, particularly, of romantic, intimate love—the kind between two people who have fallen deeply in love. Love in the truest sense of what we know and understand romantic relationships to be. How does it feel to love someone like that? What’s it like being loved like that?

I should have known better. She scored a solid 7, maybe even a soft 8, while I was a hard 4. You might be wondering how I came up with my 10-point ranking system. It’s simple. You observe how people react when they look at others. If they grimace, sneer, or giggle while pointing at you, consider yourself a 3 or under. If people look through you like you’re not even there—no second glance, not even a real first look—you’re probably around average. When people stare, look away briefly, then take a longer second glance, you’re likely above average. And when everyone stops what they’re doing to watch you enter a room—especially those of the same sex—you fall into the top percentile and probably experience pretty privilege.

As I was saying, I should have known better. Societal and peer pressure play a significant role in shaping our behaviours and values. If I’d stuck to the tried-and-tested formula that my dad and mom followed, and their parents before them, I’d have saved myself years of heartache and unnecessary hardship. But I was caught up in the hype of having a trophy partner—someone who looked and played the part but lacked any real depth or love. I had the formula backwards. That’s why my marriage failed, and each subsequent relationship since. It’s the one error I regret most because I’ve never been able to correct it.

In a scene from my favourite movie of all time, Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986) , Ferris speaks directly to the camera. Just before, he saved Cameron after he tried to drown himself in a pool. Ferris expresses his concern that his best friend’s future wife will take advantage of him:

“Cameron has never been in love. At least, no one has ever been in love with him.

If things don’t change for him, he’s going to marry the first girl he lays.

And she’s going to treat him like shit.

Because she will have given him what he has built up in his mind as the end-all and be-all of existence.

She won’t respect him…because you can’t respect someone who kisses your ass.”

My Mom and Dad were married for 60 years, and I never heard them raise their voices at each other. For as long as I can remember, they loved spending time together, drinking pots of tea and chatting for hours. They loved cooking together. My mom worked as a night-shift nurse, and my dad worked days as an aircraft technician. Their lives only crossed briefly in the early mornings and evenings.

From age 6 to 12, I slept with my Dad in their bed at night. I had survived a near-death experience with rheumatic fever, and the doctors recommended monitoring me at night. My Mom working the night shift made it all possible. For me, there was never anything strange about this—it was just part of growing up. And it gave me a front-row seat to those brief early morning and evening encounters between my Parents.

I had a front-row seat to an unmatched love story.

Trying to match such a perfect love was always going to be disappointing. My Folks managed to have five children. The firstborn was my Brother, 11 years older than me. Then a little Sister, who sadly died of diphtheria at age 2. My mom was heavily pregnant with my older Sister at her funeral, and another Sister followed a few years later. Then the “laat lammetjie” swooped in—me—and turned all the previous main events into mere opening acts. Unashamedly marked as the favourite, I had a childhood more privileged than most.

However, all of us saw the same two people deeply in love and unashamedly living life to the fullest, knowing they were loved unconditionally and forever. My older brother married a Portuguese woman, my older sister a German-speaking Namibian, and my younger sister married a Greek. I was married to a Scot. Together, we almost made up the League of Nations. But none of us can claim to have achieved anything close to what my folks had. I know I can’t.

So long as you have not been loved by someone who longs to be with you with every fibre of their being, there will always be a void longing to be filled.

Lady Antebellum, “Need You Now”

Have a great weekend and remember to be generous! ??

As always, thanks for reading. ??

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