A lifetime of memories

Dear Blog Diary,

Something I've pondered lately:

What is an acceptable answer to the question, "Why do you love me?"

To give a reason implies that if you no longer fit the rationale for why I love you, I will cease to love you. The truth is that I can't control if I love someone. There's no switch.

Thus, the only reason I can come up with, and the only reason that I think truly suffices to answer the question is...

I just do.

That's really the truth of it.

Thought:

The song "Hey Baby" by DJ Otzi, is that song also a core memory from your youth? Depending how old you are, maybe and maybe not, but in general is that something everyone shares or is it just me and the homies?

For me, it was my late teens early 20s. There was a silly square-dance-like routine that went with it, but mostly it was being at bars or house parties with other young men singing that song (really it was more like yelling, as it should be).

That song embodies one of those memories that can't be recreated, that take you to a place that once was and is now just a memory. It's yours to do with what you will.

It wasn't until years later (in reality probably only five), that I watched the super low budget music video for that song.

If you know me even at all, I've been breaking (break dancing) since I Was 13 years old. Among the travels in my life, going to breaking jams, stuff, I eventually met Sooper Jay.

Sooper Jay is British b-boy (break dancer) that always had super mega fresh Puma Suede Mids. I want to say I met him in New York or it might have been Switzerland. I remember at the time I hadn't really met many British people.

Apparently, Sooper Jay is in the music video of that song. He is the light-skinned big afro guy in the back seat of the car that acts surprised.

I say all this to say, this is a core memory that I have in my life and if you're reading this, you know it. For every other human being on Earth, they will never know this memory unless I tell them.

Then multiply this memory by a lifetime.

There will be a lifetime of memories that effectively 100% of people will never know. You have these. Only you keep these.

Thus, you can never truly, fully know anyone. It's impossible. You can spend years with a person and barely skim the surface of these memories. The vast majority of what a person has been through, you will never know.

At that point, do you ever truly know anyone?

Of course, I argue that you can't.

I also argue that though you cannot truly know someone, you can only bounce off of them in the cosmic randomness of the universe (no you're high)...

And when someone very reasonably asks "you don't even know me, how can you love me?"

The only acceptable answer is, "I just do."

Sidebar: I think it's really interesting how often times we have a hard time accepting love, trusting that it's genuine, letting someone love us, and yet we seem to have very little interest at all if someone knows us or even tries.

Best regards,

Eric