, , ,

is to feel the sun from both sides. David Viscott

I open my heart, I stretch my mind, I do and dare and dodge minor incapabilities and inconveniences.  I try so hard to love, to give, to understand.  To be patient, and kind. The work of loving, or at least having a huge crush accompanied by genuine friendship, is rewarding in itself. It gives a focus for my nurturing energy, a bit of distraction, and hope. Hope that I will be loved and appreciated too, hope that I will not be alone, hope that someone will take care of me this way too.

Sometimes, I get impatient waiting for that hope to be fulfilled.

And to be loved, well, that’s not always clear, unless its painfully obvious. What loving looks like is as individual as the person, yet somehow we know its absence quite easily.  And don’t we dread that moment when the certain knowledge that our love just isn’t reciprocated the way we want it to be, or that despite our attachment, the affinity just isn’t there. The feeling is not always mutual.

Sometimes it seems like it feels this way for me a lot, and I’ve gotta think about why this is.  I have noticed that I seem to run into this situation with guys who are really not available for long term commitment, prompting me to ask myself if I am truly available for long term commitment. I have noticed it particularly with guys who are awesome, and have some real affinity, but just, for reasons of their own, do not necessarily have the capacity nor the inclination to care for me back.  I want to be needed, but maybe it would be better to be needed as a lady love, and not as a compassionate friend.

It is hard, once that spark of attraction catches fire, seeming affinity begets affection, to let go of something I quite simply know cannot and probably shouldn’t be. I’d like to say it’s my whimsical and romantic side, wishing for what could be, that turns so quickly into what might have been, but wasn’t for very good reason. But who doesn’t want to twist fate at times, who really wants to be ruled by reason in matters of love? Doesn’t even the faintest possibility for the greatest of human experiences deserve its fair shot? I know I can weather the storm, even if not.

Maybe I need to pick my battles a little better, and be a bit more picky about who I tell myself I love. Love meaning here, not as love forever, but love, a genuine emotion, if however effervescent and ephemeral.

It seems so much easier to give love than to receive it.  I know we should give, because giving is better receiving, but I here I think there is an imbalance in the force.  To love and be loved in equal measure, in lockstep stride, in perfect clarity of commitment? Open communication of affection? Wouldn’t that be lovely?

Sometimes, I think I am not so much in love with a person as with my fantasy, wanting to be proven right, wanting to realize an ambition of a dream that was not shared.

I hope to let go of this tendancy, and also to let go of loves “lost,” who were confounded from the start, no matter how much I obscured the fact in my mind’s eye.

Every time, I think I love with a little more heart and a little less distorted mind, a bit less attachment and more real affection. I hope next time, whenever that is, it will be all love, however long or brief, however strong or weak it will be.

Maybe it is wrong to think of things as long term or short term, as enduring and overcoming or frail and insincere.  Maybe there is just a time and season for each.

The letting go, it hurts. There’s a difference between being ready to embrace forever, and fearing the letting go.

And then there’s living in eternity, in the present, and knowing that each moment is a gift.

I pray, not only to find somebody to love, but to love someone who can love and appreciate me.  That’s not vanity, it’s not selfishness, it’s not cowardice.

I love myself enough to wait for someone who loves me too.

Peace and blessings,