Love is War
By Wanjiru Kihusa
I have the tendency to remember the most interesting things from people’s conversations. My take home is always something deep, funny (or sometimes weird).
I was having a conversation with a friend of mine about marriage and in the middle of it all he said, “Love is war.” We talked about many other things but this statement stayed with me. It sat in my head and refused to leave until I gave it attention. For a week now I have been thinking about this short but potent statement.
We encounter all these mushy love quotes and love songs that talk of how awesome and sweet love is. And it is all those things; beautiful and amazing. But it is also war. Love is a battlefield. We fight to protect love and we fight to sustain love. By war I don’t mean physical fighting (although unfortunately this also happens). I mean working hard to keep love; deliberating ‘fighting’ to keep it alive.
We fight society, we fight situations that come to threaten love, we fight for our partners and sometimes, we fight ourselves. Love is hard work; love is war. Battle grounds leave us wounded and sometimes broken, but the best part in a war, is when you win. It just so happens that I found lyrics to a song by American Young that tells it so well. Bellow are some of the words in the song.
Young lovers in a picture frame
Ever notice how there ain’t no rain
Nobody hangs hard times on the wall
You won’t see it in an 8 by 10
But there’s a storm every now and then
A slamming door down the hall
Sometimes love is a white flag
Sometimes love is standing tall
Sometimes love is a feather
Sometimes a cannon ball
But it’s worth fighting for (it’s worth fighting for)
Baby, sometimes love is war
An old couple on a front porch swing
On a walk down memory lane
Been through the fire and back again
Through the clear and the cloudy skies
Still love in each other’s eyes
Sometimes love is war but sometimes you win
Sometimes love is all that can save us
Sometimes love can kill a man
Yeah sometimes love is a soft touch
Or a pistol in your hand
What are your thoughts? Is love really war? And if it is, is it worth fighting for?