Semantic Valentine

“Make love” has become an acceptable phrase among grown-ups. To younger people it’s “make out.” Well, how exactly do you make it? Do you end up with a corporeal, tangible, physical evidence of the process?

When you make potteries, you produce pots, decorative vases or ashtrays. Make a mess out of your life and you create wrinkles and grow gray hair. If making love equally means producing something and that something is an offspring, we must seriously consider colonizing Mars.

Thank heavens there are contraceptives. Inter-planetary travel hasn’t been perfected yet. However, if we must align ourselves with the church, we better be not so thankful.

Anyways, if population growth is not the idea, what is the point of having sex? Is it the ingestion of enough lipstick to clog the esophagus? Is it the inhalation of face powder, enough to cause respiratory failure? Or is it the tedious job of extracting those twin, semi-circle, sturdy set of wires from around the woman’s upper body, and the sliding off of a girdle from around the midsection, which could, if fitted around the neck, cause a serious case of asphyxia? The things a guy has to go through (Face it: You just don’t bump into perfect bodied females and those you see in FHM aren’t real). In retaliation, a guy sprays on enough perfume and deodorant to trigger gustatory allergy, so much so that when the woman kisses him on the cheek, neck, chest, tummy and down some more, she will almost have a gruesome seizure - or at least, a case of suffocation from the resulting inflammation of the tongue.

Aside from the perils (not to mention the sound produced when two sweaty bodies push against each other, which reminds you of toilet noise), what else is there about having sex? Is having sex the same as making love? If the answer is No and that making love is simply it, what are we to do with this critical over-production? (I doubt this presumed abundance, what with all the wars being waged in the name of gender, religion, and politics).

I propose to change the deceptive term “make love” to “develop love.” As in, “C’mon, bhe, let’s develop love.” The former connotes that in a relationship, love is initially absent and that it has to be created by swapping fluids or passion secretions; or, that love is created out of that bestial ritual called mating. On the other hand, “develop love” transforms sex into a process by which emotions are driven just a bit deeper, beyond the surface that mainly consists of a fashion wardrobe and accessories. Mostly fake. Of course, the substitution will take some getting used to.

But, if we were to accept “develop love” in place of “make love,” every time it happens, there must be an increase of concern, devotion, affection, passion … Essentially, the premise demands that an improvement in the relationship must ensue.

Well, we know for a fact that arguments happen. The man usually avoids an argument till it turns into neglect. Then, neglect itself becomes neglected. The woman recognizes the perceived cause of the argument. She acknowledges it inordinately, emotionally, mentally, and most of all, verbally. She hammers it on the man’s head gratuitously. It breaks the man’s head whereby she succeeds in making the mess three times messier. The damage becomes irreversible. The relationship becomes irreparable. The proposed term-shift then becomes inapplicable.

You fcuk because mating has become so casual. You have sex because it’s fun. You make love when you want to go beyond affectionate kissing. The terms are understandable enough, though I find the last one inappropriate. But with Valentine in mind, that should be beside the point. The affair through which two genitals interact does not decide whether a relationship will or will not work, no matter what term you use to describe it. Neither do the gifts that are scattered all over the malls this Valentine. What does is up to you to find out. If you aren’t so inclined, you have no business celebrating the 14th with whomever your unfortunate date may be. Very kindly throw those concert tickets in my direction, and cancel your hotel and restaurant reservations in consideration of the more deserving. As for the rest, have a lovely month. Happy Valentine.
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Originally written in January 2002 | taken from my Essay Portfolio