Aphrodisia – The Wedding of Heart and Soul
A wedding tune. My eyes go wide, and I glance around waiting for another god to step up to what I now realize is an altar.
Greeks had words for different types of love. The first was Eros, or sexual passion, the fiery, dangerous, irrational side of love, the kind that could take hold of you, could consume you. The second was Philia, or friendship, a form of deep comradery, often shared between brothers in arms, emphasizing loyalty and sacrifice. The third was Ludus, or playful love, taking place between playing children or casual lovers. The fourth was Agape, or selfless love, a love that extended from family to strangers. The fifth was Pragma, or long-standing love, the elderly couple kissing in the park, or holding hands on the beach. The final was Philautia, self love, as the old saying goes, you must love yourself before you are capable of loving another…
A wedding tune. My eyes go wide, and I glance around waiting for another god to step up to what I now realize is an altar.
“Yes, I do. I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” I whisper to him.
His arms were wrapped around her as she cradled the baby. They smiled, staring lovingly into each other’s eyes before sharing a kiss.
I smiled indulgently and wandered over to the table to gather a dozen candies for him. Wrapping them in a small parcel of soft cloth, I secured it with the last remnant of the red ribbon and presented the token to him.