Let’s start this little essay with a quote:
Sun, sea, a deserted beach, a man, and a woman.
The man Darling, you’re so quiet. Anything wrong?
The woman It’s nothing.
He Come on, tell me, what is it?
She I don’t know how to make you understand.
He How to make me understand what?
She (After a pause) I want to leave you.
He Another man?
He Are you sure you love him?
He More than you love me?
She I can’t go on without him.
He (Puts his arm around her) How wonderful.
She What did you say?
He I said, that’s wonderful. Go ahead — with him.
She You’re glad?
He Why shouldn’t I be?
She Then you no longer love me?
He On the contrary.
She You still love me?
He I love you, so I want you to be happy. What did you expect?
At this point in the scenario, if not sooner, the producer reading it picks up his phone and dials the author.
‘Are you out of your mind?’ he asks. He had ordered a love scene, but this certainly was no imaginable love scene, was it? In a real love scene the man would at this point crack his wife’s skull, or at least give a good imitation of doing it. Then, he would leap into his car, drive off with tires screeching, to beat up his rival.
But the author is not inclined to make any changes. If the man really loves his wife, he would behave as outlined in the script. True love is selfless by definition.
This is the first page from Esther Vilar’s book The Polygamous Sex (1976).
Whoever felt love can understand Esther Vilar’s position. Regrettably, only few people can.
Most people have never experienced that kind of love and probably never will. They are deplorable creatures who cramp their own feelings and trample on other’s. They are a problem not just for themselves but for the rest of the world.
The problem is rooted in our material world in which everything is defined by its value, and so is a relationship. A partner is not truly loved anymore but e-v-a-l-u-a-t-e-d. The value is simply defined as the difference between holding or loosing.
It is just the same calculation if crashing a car or dropping an iPhone into the toilet bowl. It is just the loss that matters. The fear to loose something is often taken for love. That’s why those people use to say: “I love my car.” or “I love my iPhone.” They project human feeling to material things with absolutely no chance of being loved back. They don’t care.
True love is different. True love is accepting a loss if it is for the better. True love is selfless. I hope you enjoy (sometimes).