Pure Love

I was digging on my cats last night. It is a non-stop and eternal process.
Giving them their snack before I collapsed into bed and thinking about how much I love them and how much they love me.
Thinking about love, really. (Which reminds me of Love Actually - the movie. This is the time of year to watch it. Do it. You will love it with laughter and tears.)
The love between me and the cats is pure. There is nothing in the way.
They trust me perfectly, 100%, they are innocent and gentle and cute. They ARE love. They give it, they ask for it, they receive it. There is no jealousy, no lying , nothing hurtful, no games.
I contend this is why pure love between humans is impossible.
We say things to hurt each other, we do things that hurt each other, we have hang ups that prevent us from loving honestly, life cranks us up to the point of meltdown causing us to treat our love objects imperfectly.
But we keep looking for pure love. We want it because it is the ultimate escape from this hard world. It is the ultimate comfort.
Imagine the feeling of coming home from your typical beating at work into the arms of someone with whom you are engaging in pure love. You hug each other and there is this warmth, this vibration of love that soothes you immediately and completely. A feeling of sweet relief, total relief that takes the death that your job makes you feel and turns it into life.
I am talking about complete abandon, a new reality, an existence of complete safety and shelter and acceptance; a melting of one human being's essence into the pool of the other.
I don't believe it exists. And this is one more reason why we are all hungry and searching and frustrated and tilted to the side.
When I pick the cats up and look into their sleepy eyes looking at me, it is a perfect moment.
They are not questioning anything about me, they are not remembering last week when I was mad, they are not afraid that I will throw them against the wall, they are not wondering what my mood will be that night, they are not condemning me for a mood I was in three days ago, they do not doubt that what I give them back is pure love.
This is what fascinates me about pets and maybe it is what pet ownership is all about.
Replacing our craving for pure human love, which we will never have, with the sensation of pure love we get from them. It is kind of like taking a hit from the crack pipe of pure love, and it is addictive.
I used to think ugly people could get closer to pure love than the pretty ones. Jealousy is taken out of that situation. Like Mike and Molly. I have never seen that show and have no intention of watching it but have always assumed it is there to pander to the obese and to maybe demonstrate that ugly love is more genuine that pretty love.
I could be wrong.
But even without jealousy, you still have to deal with hangups and anxiety and pressure and human imperfection. The underused and petty human brain.
No pure love there.
As I write that it occurs to me that the brain is the problem. Love is all about heart and soul. The brain gets in the way. I want to say that we humans think too much, but we really don't think. We plot and plan and worry and invent and imagine and generally put on a drama production in our heads. We take reality and distort it into fiction.
I am not saying the cats don't have brains, but their thinking is simpler, more direct, more spiritual than the human brain. They are one with the universe, we think we are bigger than the universe.
These thoughts were swirling through my tiny mind as my head hit the pillow last night. I almost got up to write this then but, goddamn, the pseudo-sleep that I get is important to me. It does not refresh me, I am always tired, but bed is a great place to be.
Ain't nobody trash talking me in bed. At least not to my face. And if you are lucky like me, the person who lies next to you gives you more comfort than any other human in the world.
It ain't perfect but it IS magic.