For Love

This is a short experimental piece of writing, and it won't be for everyone. I welcome comments.

*

What would you do for love?

It's not a simple question to answer is it? There are so many things in the world that you could possibly do. Let's take a simple example: Would you cross the street for love? Would you cross the interstate? Would you run across blindfolded during rush hour?

It's easy to agree to things on the mundane side of the spectrum, but the irrational side of the spectrum is where the truth lies.

Would you beat up someone for love? What if he was trying to molest your girlfriend? If he was trying to rape your girlfriend, could you shoot him?

What about murder? Could you kill me?

I was in love once, with a girl much like yours. Of course, my girl was prettier, and cleverer, but all guys think that about their girl. Love distorts our objectivity. In fact, I would say that the definition of love is a positive distortion of objectivity fixated on an object or person. So is your world perspective distorted enough that you would kill me?

I'll make the question more tangible... Here's a knife. I'm going to lie down on that couch and wait. You just need to step up and stab me.

No, a gun isn't the same. It's too easy for it to go off before you expect it to. I would hate for your trembling finger to accidently set off a gun. You and I both need to know that you meant to do it. That is, if you decide to do it. And no, I won't put on a blindfold. It is important for you to look me in the eyes and know you are taking my life.

This is not a hypothetical situation, you can see the knife.

There are no cameras running, there is no one around, except for me, you and your love. Oh, let me pull back the curtain and you can see her through the window.

No, the only thing I've done to your love is steal something from her. I've taken all the memories of you and all the love that she's ever had for you. If you walk out of here and I'm still alive, she won't know you. If I'm still alive at noon, she will never know you. You won't be able to make her love you again, since there will be a hole in her heart shaped just like you. Besides, she is already in love.

Didn't I tell you? I stole all the love she has for you. Don't worry. I will make her happy, mostly. I have money to get her anything she wants or needs. I will lavish her with attention and all the trappings of affection.

The only thing I won't give her is love. How could I love her? She just doesn't compare to the love I once had. I will never tell her I don't love her, but I won't tell her that I do. Someday she will figure it out, but that won't stop her from loving me.

Oh, I also won't give her kids, although we will try, I promise you we'll try. So, she won't even have kids to love her when she grows old.

I know, won't that be tragic? How much more tragic will it be when you realize you could have prevented her loveless life by simply killing the man who caused it? I think you might hold on to your scruples if it meant merely that you had to live your life without your love, but would you inflict it on her as well?

What was that?

I once asked the same question... You see, there is magic in the world, although mostly there are only curses. I didn't believe either. Of course, a man learns to believe a lot of things after eight hundred years.

You misunderstand; you aren't the one who is cursed. I was the one who told a gypsy queen I would do anything for her -- but didn't. You and your love are merely collateral damage.

If it's any consolation, you aren't the first. Unless you pick up that knife and kill me, you won't be the last. When your love dies, I will find another, just as I found you.

By all means, go talk to her. Just don't tell her who you are planning to kill, since she is quite fond of me and she will try to stop you. Don't take too long, you have a little less than an hour left to decide.

Don't worry about me; I'll be on the couch, waiting...