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The last few days have been a bit emotionally trying, I have spent a great deal of time thinking about love, and how we relate to love, and how love interrelates to life, practically—in our day-to-day lives. As well as how willing-, and capable I might be of allowing love to affect my life; as if it were a choice (and I realized, that, for many people, it is a choice: to love or to move on, and that I have been one of those people. I have loved, and I have actively, with some but relatively minor difficulty (even at it’s most difficult to let go, in my experience)—required little more than leaving the television on at night with a blanket over the screen to cancel out the light, an exercise in feeling less alone, and/or firmly and with resolve reinventing my perception of a person: imposing particularly negative habits or behaviors so that I might begin to see them less favorably, etc.—decided to move on), I have also come to realize that it’s not always going to be a choice, sometimes, regardless of any conventional reason to love, namely to be loved in return, love is, in essence, and at its most fundamental: unconditional; however, that’s not how we have come to experience or relate to it in our day-to-day lives, because we do actively want to experience love, physically, so directly that many of us are capable, only, of experiencing love in that light: selfishly.
I have recently experienced a certain loss, and, as a result, some extent of conflict, internally which has acted as a catalyst to this private dialogue with myself about love, and I wanted, very much, for the feeling to just go away…
...you know, like, poof!
It felt cruel that I might love, involuntarily and be required, still, to suffer the loss. That seemed very much like a fatal flaw within the wondrous and far-reaching scope of “The Greatest Joy in Life...” almost like someone forgot a comma in there somewhere or a letter or a word or a fully realized idea, like they might have intended more for the sentiment to be about a puppy or a cup of coffee in the morning or an object so unchallengeably inanimate that it didn’t really matter whether your pet rock loved you back, or whether it was “emotionally unavailable.”
Still, the conflict existed and it was one that I wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with, one that a ten year old red-headed boy most aptly described in Love, Actually, “...worse than the total agony of being in love?” It occurred to me that much of what I was “feeling:” the heartache, the loss, the whatever else, I wasn’t actually feeling it, it felt more like I was supposed to be feeling it, almost as if I was trying to fit some template.
Until it dawned on me that I hadn’t actually lost anything, and no, I don’t mean that I didn’t really have anything to lose, what I mean is that every single day that passes I am, and have been even more awe-inspired by her than I was the previous day, and that is just as true today as it was yesterday, and the day prior, and preceding and so-on-and-so-forth since the day I realized that I was in love. What I feel for her isn’t hers to take away from me, or anyone elses,’ I have never known love more true and unconditional. The thing is-is that I will be there for her unequivocally and without condition, always; both because—as I have discovered, very recently—she’s stuck with me, in the capacity of her choosing, and because I want to be there for her, there has never been a single person more deserving or that I am more grateful to afford myself to. And, even more so, she knows, absolutely that if there were no one else that she could depend on for any reason or for any thing, I will be there. Unconditionally.
What may, or may not happen tomorrow with her has only once crossed my mind, and that was two days ago, when something that changed between us felt, at the time, as if everything had changed…
...all the same, nothing actually changed for me.
How I feel about her has not changed, only an avenue that we shared to communicate, and to express that has. It’s difficult to explain the differences and the connection between the way that I have loved in the past and the ways that I love her, the best way, or maybe the only way is to acknowledge that I do not actively think or care about what we don’t have, or what we are not to-, or with each other...
I really only recognize and care about what-, and who we are, right now. And, with that, you can never actually feel loss, you can only ever feel fulfilled, and have exactly, everything that you could ever need: a pair of blue-green eyes and the most unfathomable revelation of a human being that there is nothing you wouldn't do for, for no reason other than that you can.