The bar owner loves the drunkard but he wouldn’t give him his daughters hand in marriage.
The age old argument of love versus respect, I know, it can be quite a dull one, but rock with me for a moment.
I’ve found it an impossibility to have full and high activation of both concepts in relationships (familial, platonic and otherwise).
Loving someone, in most cases, requires a heightened level of intimate connection, a violent emotional proximity if you will — one that rips through the regular rigmarole that exists in the life of a heart. I’ve found that the closer proximity people are to given person, the more curiosity is satiated, ambiguity is dissolved; threads holding the seams together become all the more visible for a studied critique.
With closeness comes comfort, allowing more freedom of speech, the door is open for more vulgarities and subtle impoliteness. Love can often be a crutch that allows you to be more relaxed with the drop in quality of overall treatment that you’re giving or receiving. Lovers are are able to lick their guilty wounds with the, “well I love them,” excuse, its permission to misbehave, a permission, that if I’m honest, I have used myself.
Respect or love, what do you prefer?