70. love languages illiterate

So maybe you’ve heard of the book The Five Love Languages by Gary Chatman. I’ve thought about picking it up…but here’s the thing. Me reading a book about love languages is like a blind person reading a book on color theory. I have no frame of reference with which to know what my love language might be. How can I know? The closest I’ve come to love is empty, paper infatuation. And even if I did know, what good would that do me – knowing my language but not being able to speak it or have it spoken to me?

Sometimes I think love is a sick joke. I imagine angels and demons wagering on the outcome of relationships like gamblers at a horse race or a dog fight. It’s amazing the daggers we’ll swallow and the poison we’ll pour through our veins, all for a taste of Eden – that glorious day when Adam met Eve.

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