Philosophy – “Why Love is not an Emotion” – Pt. 2 – 3/15/2021

“Everything fleeting does not correspond to love. If we love, then we remember. It is through our memories that love never abandons, though only haunts, ourselves.”

– Modern Romanticism

“God loves you,” as it is said. In reference, love never abandons you. Unless one can voluntarily suffer amnesia, love does not leave. Love does not run. Love does not depart. Though, it can be said of a person to abandon love. To abandon its concept. To abandon its changes in one’s life. Though, the torment this introduces is on the level of leaving one’s memories upon the road. For whether painful or not the slightest bit harmful, whether sickening or simply miserable, these were moments that merely mattered. They had showed us a world in which was always alien, or disbelieved, to ourselves.

“God loves you,” as it is said. In reference, love knows you. Love sees you. Love comprehends your every fear, your every fault. It is love, that even without a “belief in God”, can often be received with doubt. To doubt faith. To doubt what is eternally attached.

To love not ever being an emotion, is in reference to doubt, to fear. A person doubts out of their faith always being genuine. A person doubts because their fear is directed towards the instinct of love’s protection. As in, to say the words, “I doubt this would ever occur, so be comforted.” It is to doubt the danger, sometimes even in the underestimation of it, simply in the need to reduce its strength of being a threat.

To each emotion, from whatever origin they hail, references simply our concern for another. In opposite from prejudice or the ignorance of another person, instead of fearing them, we fear for them. We are concerned for this person, for their mattering in our lives means only that they can disappear during the next moment.

How a person matters, is why a person lives. Simply for no reason, other than the heartbeat, at the fundamental level. Though, once prejudice is exterminated from the individual’s mind, then fear of another becomes the fear for another. They become remembered. They become important. And, most of all, they become something unrelated to the temporary. They become something unrelated to mere life, because they are now loved.

This is why love cannot be an emotion. Because, if it were, we would never remember. Love encompasses memories. Despite how memories can make us fragile, we are not alone even with them. Out of the most beautiful memories, come our beauty. We are revealed as sick, within love, requiring it to never be further sick without it. Love, by itself, is a sickness. A sickness that we yearn for, in another sickness being that longing. A sickness that prevents sickness. Love is a vaccine.

Nothing of love is emotional, except for the fears and concerns we hold for the individual, beloved life. Though, love, by itself, is not emotion. As in, it is never temporary. For no matter how deeply we bury our memories of the past, they cannot depart us. In our attempt to depart from them, whether as the drunk through the bottle, they are us. These memories are inside of us.

“God loves you,” as it is said. In reference, we are always remembered, even if we don’t believe it.


  1. There is a practiced pitch to the singing of the heart instrument, and at first there is the duet of the egos, but when the two hear and feel a symphony of one, they are enruptured by a oneness that is a symphony of love. It is an emotion without a thinking process. The instruments are constructed and repaired and arranged in their places, but the music is like a unthinking love that moves the wind and makes the fantasies that display themselves spontaneously. Defense mechanisms are like poorly stacked thinking boxes miles high that can fall over and crash, destroying their contents. Boxes do not love.

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    1. Sometimes, I attempt to comprehend why it is I love the one who I love. There is no answer.

      If I were to think on it, to attempt to draw some reason for it, it’d be the same as treating my love for her as a mere excuse for something else. What would be that something else? Life? Perhaps. She does give me meaning. She fills me with wholeness. Though, she definitely does not withdraw me from knowing that my life is only purposeful when placed beside her own.

      If I am excused from life, then I am excused from loneliness, and that’s about it.

      But, there is no real singular reason why anyone falls in love. As you said, a box cannot love. We cannot think to love. We cannot choose to love. It is that love is not born from free will. In fact, it is the epitome of consequence. We did something, whatever it once was, and now we face the aftermath. As in, we face the eyes of the one we love, to say to them we would have nothing better.

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