Love is a funny thing. I expect it to be easy. I expect it to be a world of roses and laughs and perfect moments that you find only in movies. I expect you to always say the right thing, and always know exactly how you feel, or exactly how to react to it. I expect you to calm me down when i’m yelling or to chase me when I walk away. I expect so much that I feel entirely, and utterly defeated when something doesn’t exactly match up with all my plans. But that’s the thing. Love isn’t a plan. It doesn’t have a certain beginning and it certainly has no end or visible finish line to those deeply in it. Love happens; it is so incredibly messy. People around me can’t comprehend why I do the things I do, or why I fight so hard for something that seems to cause me so much pain, because simply, they can’t see. They can’t see the invisible ring of insanity that surrounds me when i’m in love. It’s inconvenient and painful and devastating at times, but we can’t live without it. What you don’t learn is how hard love is. How much work it takes. How much of ourselves we have to put into it. How it isn’t worth it until we are complete and utter idiots about it. Love isn’t you calming me down when I yell. It’s you yelling, just as loud, just as hard, right back at me, right in my face to wake me up and to keep me grounded. It isn’t me bringing you roses everyday or cute things that make our relationship appear more presentable. It’s after a long fight, that drains the life and bones right out of us both, and yet me showing up the next morning anyway. It’s not you saying all the right things or knowing exactly how to handle me. So no, it’s not me caressing your hair and telling you everything is going to be alright. It’s me standing there, admitting i’m just as scared as you are. You have to remember that with love, you’re not the only one involved. You’ve unknowingly put your life, your heart into the palms of another persons hands and said, here. Do what you will. Mash it into mince meat. Or forget I ever handed it to you. As long as you have it. It makes us crazy. It makes reality invisible and it erases all the lines that we shouldn’t cross. Because love isn’t about fencing ourselves in; feeling safe, feeling sure about the future. It’s about scaring the shit out of every nerve in our body, but pushing forward anyway. Because all the fighting and all the tears and all the uncertainty is worth it. And it’s a hell of a lot better, than being 100% happy without someone to show us that there is a world of a difference between feeling ‘happy’ and feeling whole.
Posted on: Mon, 24 Jun 2013 08:16:31 +0000
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