Love, Lust, and Missing Car Keys

We go through life fumbling through relationships like searching for keys in a disheveled purse… most being the equivalent of mile-long CVS receipts and gum wrappers, with that fabled, special someone faintly clinking and offering peeks of it’s silver shine from the bottom of a crammed Rebecca Minkoff. We can say we’ll clean up our act and get organized until we’re blue in the face, but at the end of the day, we’re still sifting through shit to find those damn keys.

Romantic love is the murky source of my episodic psychosis. I had a conversation with a friend recently about the differences between lust and love—a topic I’ll probably tackle on my blog ad nauseam. She texted me after a sleepless night beside her not-yet-boyfriend, wondering what it all means, when it’s too soon to exchange those three words, etc. We dissected her feelings to the point that I just kind of smiled smugly at my phone and thought, “yep, this bitch in love.”

Naturally, this sparked a feverish post-chat journaling session. Did I really know the difference myself? My definition of lust was always narrowly ascribed to physical passion. But as I’ve gotten older and experienced more bumps along the road to forever, I feel it’s much broader, leaving more room for error in distinguishing it from love. Here’s how I roughly (and, uh, poetically?) separated the two:

LUST is selfish. Lust takes. Lust pines. Lust is anxious and jealous. Lust is attention-starved and insatiable. Lust has selective hearing. Lust makes excuses. Lust is sloppy and urgent. Lust is vague and unsure. Lust consumes, but does not fill.

LOVE is selfless. Love sacrifices and pursues. Love is taking care and taking time. Love is expressive and clear. Love asks. Love listens. Love soothes. Love shows up. Love is delayed gratification. Love fills, but does not consume.

Contrary to how it sounds, I’m not here to demonize lust. Lust is a basic desire to be celebrated, and archaic beliefs keep sexual urges suppressed and taboo. Lust is that pulsing thrill that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, and it’s certainly not mutually exclusive from love. But when seeking eternity with someone, lust can take form of a very manipulative beast (with a great dick!), so consider this merely cautionary.

Let’s address the difference between “filling” and “consuming.” With matters of the heart, this is more than just semantics.

The qualities of lust are drug-like. They permeate our thoughts and distract us from daily life. But because it is so surface level and primal, lust can’t fill us. It gives quick bursts in the form of late night “u up?” texts, among other 2018 fuck shit. It’s like love as fast food: instant gratification for your appetite for romance.

Lust also encompasses that which “looks good on paper.” It’s easy to be consumed by people’s good qualities and view them through a possessive lens. You know, the guy with the great finance gig, your family loves him, he’s 6’4, and life-of-the-party hilarious… but the connection is zilch and you’re conflicted about parting with such a catch because if you see him with another girl GODDAMMIT THAT’S MY TROPHY AND IT SHALL REMAIN ON MY SHELF? Yeah, that’s lust. Has anyone ever accused you of loving the idea of them, but not the reality of being together? I’ve done it myself. That romanticized idea of someone is lust.

Real love, however, doesn’t consume you. You don’t pine over the person because you’re already full from the love you share. There’s trust and understanding, so you lose that need for constant reassurance. It’s a slow burn, providing your soul with lasting warmth. Cornball 4 life.

I thought about my past relationships and attributed most of my toxic behavior to lust. I was thoroughly shook when I couldn’t think of ONE relationship in which I truly wanted what was best for the other person if it involved anything other than me. I developed this warped sense of entitlement that could barely honor the happiness of my partners if it wasn’t achieved by making ME happy. Like, they could tell me about their fantastic meal at a new restaurant and I’d be low key annoyed if I wasn’t present. Totally normal! Super chill!

I’ve been confusing lust and love for most of my life. I’m such a cliche Italian woman in that if there isn’t fiery drama and sex, I’ll probably call bullshit. It sure is difficult to make a relationship last when the only way it feels real to me is if the air between us is thick with volatility. My therapist says I’m “primed for these really intense interactions” and that I grow bored with people who don’t require an arduous chase. She’s 100% right. I’ll write people off as no potential for love if they don’t leave me wondering whether they have feelings for me (lust alert). But, since partaking in therapy for a few months now, I’d like to think I am more emotionally mature and getting better at this. I’m starting to nip patterns in the bud early so I don’t waste my time. And believe it or not, I’m genuinely wanting what’s best for other people, even if I’m not part of the equation.

But if we’re keeping it 100….I’ll always love a good chase.