Loveless: my epic journey towards God

I don't think that I've ever been in love. You know, I've always expected love to be this enveloping feeling--one that sweeps you off of your feet and floats you away to some distant "love cloud." But I've never experienced that, in fact, I've never even caught a glimpse of a love cloud.
I can say that, truthfully, I dreamed about love...I've dreamed hard about love. Almost to the point of living an alter-reality of "love-living." Wondering and postulating about what living in love would be like. I guess I thought I was in love once. Actually, for years, I was engrossed with this feeling of "love." There was this girl. Yeah--it always starts like that, but seriously, there was this girl. She was perfect...beautiful, smart, talented, sure-of-herself, independent, I really could make the list go on and on--really. But I digress. As you can tell, I thought a lot about this love-of-my-life. It was to the point where I honestly couldn't imagine me "ending up" with anyone else. When I tried to talk to "other" girls, I felt like I was cheating on my love. Her name filled the pages of my class notes, you get the picture? And yet my love didn't even know how I felt. Except maybe she could read it in my eyes--on the rare occasions that I actually looked at her.
Things were like this: I was at school, four hours away from her, and while I was away, she was all that I could think about. She was everything I dreamed of. But when I was home visiting, I could barely hold a conversation with her. When we were in groups together, all was well, but stick us in a room together, alone, and my tongue would immediately find itself lodged in the back of my throat. I'm sure my choking sounds ruined any chance I ever had with her (jokes). But you see, I finally realized where my true dilemma was. When I was with her, I couldn't love her and when I was away from her, I couldn't live without her. I tried to love her when I was around her. I would create situations to put us together, I called her, I went to her house, I would glance at her in church...I tried to love her...I tried to like her. I even rationalized within myself that love isn't a feeling--it's a decision, I had to decide to love this girl. But I couldn't make that decision when I was within fifteen miles of her. And as soon as I crossed that mile marker, I was crazy about her.
Then the epiphany just slapped me upside the head. I was in love with the "idea" of her--I wasn't in love with her. I was in complete head-over-heels love with the idea of being head-over-heels in love with someone. In actuality I wasn't in love with anyone but the figment of my imagination. It didn't matter how perfect we were for each other--it just wouldn't work. Unless of course, we lived 270 miles from each other and talked via emails and text messages (I don't do well over the phone). I guess you could say that my love has passed.
But the remedy of my situation has yet to present itself. When will I find a love of any sort? I mean-- I love my family, but that's an obligatory love--one that I can't help but exude. I guess that I could say that I love to write--it relaxes me. I love to sleep--it relaxes me. I love hot days--they relax me. I love head massages--they relax me (do I detect a patter?). Problem: these "loves" are non-entities, so they don't count and I could question the validity of the use of the word "love" in each of the respective instances. I think that I just don't understand what love is.
I don't get it, every time I think that I might have a bit of a grasp on love it easily escapes my snare and continues on its merry, frolicking way to blissful happiness. I think that one day I will understand love. I have formulated the condition precisely in my mind. When my wife, which I'm not sure how I'll be married without realizing love, but that's besides the point (and once again, I digress). Moving on...when my wife delivers our first child, I think that at that moment I will understand love. I think that the moment I see my child, I will love him or her so much that in that moment I will be willing to give my very life for my child. I think that that is true love. But this scenario does not solve my present absence of love. And I think everyone needs to love someone--something.
Everyone needs to truly love with their whole heart. Take loving God, for example. So many claim to love Him. They cry in church and testify about their undying love for him, they make their claims on Sunday but provide little evidence to support their claims from Monday to Saturday. But I think I understand this dilemma, and sadly, sometimes I must include myself in this group of people. I think society, humanity, "we,"...we are in love with the idea of God. We love the idea of a "higher" (not necessarily supreme) being. We love the mystery surrounding God. We love the cloudiness of our understanding towards him. The fact that we can't grasp him makes us love it more. But we are not in love with God. Nah--that's too much...what?...too much commitment, too wacky, too conservative, too something. We are content with being in love with the idea of God. Okay so maybe I use the term "we" liberally because I am not content with loving this idea. I've got to love something tangible. Many (if not most) would argue that God is not tangible, and to an extent, I concur, but one must admit that God is much more tangible than the "idea" of God. After all, the affects of God can be seen...the idea of God seldom effects anything.
I seek to love God. I really, really really (the third "really" is quite necessary for emphasis) want to and need to love God. But this ultimate desire presents with itself a plethora of other problems. I mean, since I can't recall truly loving anything, then how will I know when I'm in love? And what if the God that I pursue doesn't fall head-over-heels in love with me? What if I don't fall for Him? Will I be content loving God alone, or will I still long to love other things as well? I suppose I am embarking on a quest.
Like a knight off to seek out and rescue his fair lady (who has been rendered unconscious by any number of villainous dragons or step-mothers--choose your fairy tale), I set off searching for the love of my life. I am looking to rescue God from the insanely evil and equally lethargic "idea of God." I hereby render my life useless to any other endeavor until my love is realized, promised and accepted. Will I return? This is to be determined--but I can guarantee you that the man who comes back will be unrecognizable. I've heard that love--especially this kind of love, changes people. It really changes people...lunatics, they say.