It's Not Living

We have a tv in the bedroom.  I was drifting off when a song came on called “It’s Not Living If It’s Not With You.”  I really liked the sound.  I started to watch.  The dancers were amazing.  The music was good.  I played it again.
I found it was sung by a group called “The 1975.”   Their name came from a letter signed “The 1975.” It is an English band and I checked out the lyrics.  They were pretty tame.  I have no desire to make them my new favourite band, but I do have that song on my Spotify playlist.  To me it is a great dance number.  I can’t dance for nuts, but I am really good at dancing on the inside.
It is the name of the song that got me.  “It’s Not Living If It’s Not With You.”  I reckon that is a great title.  It is obviously a love song, and I am inclined to think it is a “first love” song.  By first love I mean that first flush of love where someone looks at another though rose-coloured glasses.  To me it is right I experience that, but I think it is wrong to assume that is all there is.
Love to me is about doing the hard yards. Sometimes there really are no feelings that go with it.  It is a slog.  That is not a forever thing.  There is a coming out the other side, and the feelings return - but different.
It becomes love and commitment.  To me both are necessary.  Love alone is bound to disappoint and leave me continually seeking the next fix.  Commitment alone can be a hard thing.  It is like Rule 47, sub-clause T, section 17 says “you will love me.”  It might be the right thing to do, but I want to love not because I have to, but because I want to.  That takes both love and commitment.
To me, each alone is deficient.  Both are good, but one is incomplete without the other.  I gotta admit, I love love.  If I had it my way, love would always be the rose-coloured glasses type.
But alas, life has taught me different.  It can be a bit like going on a trip and needing to go through a desert.  We know less about that these days.  I remember travelling from Townsville to Brisbane by train.  Back then the trip took a day and a night and a day non-stop travel.  The average speed of the train was 30 miles an hour.  Now high-speed travel is the norm.
Going by car was quicker, but the stretch between Mackay and Rockhampton was long with very little in between.  For that part, I needed to be provisioned, and hope like crazy the car did not break down.  I remember a teacher saying they broke down and to sate their hunger, they ate the car seat cover.  A person needs to be pretty desperate to do that. 
The thing about deserts to me is they are only a waste if I let them be.  Deserts can have a beauty all of their own.  I am an “enjoy the journey and the destination” person.  Deserts are never my first choice though.
Love is not all beautiful scenery.  Thankfully it is a lot of that, and it keeps getting better.  But there are times when it is miles between attractions.  Times when it is the destination that keeps me going, rather than the now experience. 
Wishing it were different changes nothing for me.  Arriving does. ​