The world is beautiful to me now. For a long time I was terribly unhappy, both with myself and with my environment. I hid my suffering well, and even those closest to me had no idea how severely an event which occurred over three years ago affected me. I made myself "ok", because I had no other option. Last year the process of recovery and of acceptance truly began, and now... Now? Has it completed? No, certainly not. But it continues, and will continue. And I'm ok with that. (Bah. I am such a sentimental bear!)
This has brought me to think upon the subject of love. A while ago a Friend was telling me that he thought love was nothing more than a narcissistic object cathexis, wherein the beloved is invested with the idealized image of Self. My response to that was: "You obviously have never been in love." I now understand that the kind of love this man was referring to was False love (or "True Love" in its cliched (clicheed?) sense). I have experienced both forms... one I attempted to construct into my ideal, and the other... the other was a genuine acceptance of things as they were. It was a basic settling, and not a desire or expectation for/of.. well.. anything. Of course, all of this is complicated by the necessary element of sexuality.. which I'm not going to even attempt to factor in, as it's not something rational discourse can begin to do justice to. And now I've lost my train of thought... heh.
I suppose what I was trying to say, essentially, is that love is not an Ideal. It is not Romantic. It is something that develops over time, and if not uprooted prematurely (which it often is, generally for valid reasons) is something that could happen between any two people.