Adore/Adorn

What level of intensity does adoration necessitate?  How much love accompanies adoration?  Are things admired meant to be adorned with more than love?

My favorite song of the moment is Miguel's "Adorn."  It has a sick beat and lyrics that make me melt.  Check it out:

(I can't help but mention I love this singer's hairstyle.   I adore Mohawks as well.  I don't find them faddish; instead, I find them flattering of appropriately shaped heads.)

I've listened to this song dozens of times over the past month or so as I sift through the rubble of another lost relationship.  The man who once called me an amazing woman left me abruptly.  His actions remind me that men are great at saying flattering things but not acting accordingly.   Fast forward to a weekend in January, when I spent the weekend in San Francisco with an acquaintance I made while on a flight from Connecticut.  A guy whose beautiful tattoos and expressions of missing my conversation suckered me into flying halfway across the country to see him ended up ceasing all contact after we left the beautiful city by the bay.  Why am I surprised?  I am a magnet for guys who view me as good for only one thing.

"Adorn" gives me comfort while making me a bit sad.  I wish someone felt about me the way Miguel sings to his love:  "You know that I adore you / Let my love adorn you." 

In my solitude, I will focus my adoration on my family.  The woman who has always been my rock, my grandmother, turned 90 this week.  I cherish every life lesson she has bestowed upon me.  I adore her wisdom and wit, strength and solace.  Her love has adorned my life and will be my focus during this time of what feels like aimless wandering.