The Four-Lettered Word

Should you smilingly tell even a casual friend to f-off, he will probably smirk and let it slide. Flip a co-worker the bird in a joking context, as long as no manager sees you, you're fine. But if you have made a good friend, and you use this four-lettered word, watch out.

The word is "love." I do not understand why a word so essential to the human experience, to who we are and what we do, has become anathema. I believe ardently in the Greek word for love among all humans, "agape." And yet, it is more acceptable to swear in public than to tell a friend that you love him or her. This seems like a heinous crime to me.

I spend my days reading the words of the greatest minds in the world, who in many cases ostensibly wrote out of love. The sole purpose for their agonistic endeavors, I would imagine, even if they wouldn't phrase it in such a way, is that they loved humanity and felt they should share what insights they had found. To be a student of literature is to dedicate yourself to the echoes of love; to be an academic is to try and peer into the hearts of brilliant minds. That love that should be shared between all people, that should warm us inside, that should make us feel connected even to the random stranger on the other side of the world, that is a love we all acknowledge in private, when we sit and watch people walking on a sunny day.

But to actually say it, to form the words to another person, is maybe "too intimate" for them to handle. Why? I just want to know: Why can't humans express that basic, unmotivated compassion without it being turned into something grotesque? I remember once telling my stepfather over the phone that I loved him, and my coworker acted as if I had done something bizarre, even wrong. It's an attitude that catches me off guard because, well, isn't that the point of being on this planet? Aren't we supposed to seek a sort of intimacy with our human family? Isn't that what makes us beautiful, more than just animals, that makes the dark and painful halls of life bearable, worth it?

Emersonian discourse demands that we be open, that we speak ourselves. I've found it dangerous to be Emersonian in my lifetime. Being open leaves you vulnerable, and when people get a good glimpse into an open person, they are scared that they, too, might have to be open. I could take one route, and stop being Emersonian, stop being open to others with my honest perceptions. I could. But "the doctrine of hate must counteract the doctrine of love, when that pules and whines." Well, the doctrine of love is puling and whining: Love, it is saying, just don't have the balls to say it.

Well, screw that. I will not be a coward. I will not be afraid to tell someone I care about them. This is not a sin, not a travesty. This is why we're here. This is part and parcel of the reason God made us, I believe, and if you don't believe in God, well, all the more reason to find sanctity in love. Real love, not eros, not familia, but agape: the love for each other's humanity, that is the key to a better world. If you're reading this, I challenge you: let others know you care. They might not like it at first, but if they're willing to be brave and open up, take them by the hand and show them a world that isn't calloused and cold, but real and filled with compassion.

Love is not a swear word.