I loved you with my whole heart, but you never did. You were never in love with me.
That fact alone should erase any affection I have for you. That should help unknot the tight ball of agony inside me. It should remove all the lingering hope, desire, yearning I have to be with you.
But it does not. In fact, it just makes me want you more; yearn for you more; hope for us to be what we could be.
Suggested read: In search of the promise of love…
I wish I could exorcise you from my memories. I wish I could make myself forget all that I love about you. I wish I had the kind of magic that makes me not hurt all the time.
Image source: Pixabay, under Creative Commons License
I wish I could drown all the affection I still hold for you at the bottom of an ocean. I wish I could hurl all the pieces of us from atop a cliff. I wish I could torch all the memories, sweet moments, cherished quirks that we shared with the flick of a match.
Just to make the agony stop – let it burn, let it blow away, let it drown, let it leave me alone.
But loving you is like the first breath you take after being underwater for over a minute. Light explodes in my eyes, the sweet agony of filling my lungs with precious air, nothing but feeling it all. Makes me feel… alive like nothing else ever has.
Loving you is like the warm night sky cocooning me. Darkness envelopes me, but I have never felt safer, before or since. The dark night promises to bring the light of day that much faster.
Loving you is like a starburst – brilliant in the middle of vast, all-encompassing darkness. The brightest stars radiate warmth, and give me hope for all that you and I could be, all that we could be.
Image source: Google, copyright-free image under Creative Commons License
Loving you is a lot like setting myself free from all the shackles I’d put on myself. It’s incredibly freeing.
Loving you has made me realize so many different facets of myself that I didn’t even know I had. And I love and embrace each and every one of these sides of myself.
Loving you has given me strength to grab hold of happiness, however ephemeral it might seem, and be in the moment to savor it.
Loving you makes me want to abandon reason, come out of my comfort zone, and embrace life in all its messy, incredible, insane glory. It gives me hope to brave whatever life throws at me.
Image source: Pixabay, under Creative Commons License
Loving you has made me realize that I don’t need to be perfect or a size zero or have fair complexion to feel beautiful. That I’m imperfectly perfect just the way I am, in all my love handle carrying glory. That when I look in the mirror, I see a beautiful woman, who is independent, confident (in most situations), and strong, who knows her mind and what she wants out of life.
Loving you is confusing and contradictory. There is too much heat, too much chemistry, too strong a connection, too much… you. One moment, I want to hit you upside the head, and the next, I want to pull you down and kiss you senseless. I want to push you away, yet, at the same time, I want to pull you closer; hold on to you so tight, to never let you go. You make me want to abandon my sanity, my rational, logical, ever-loving mind, to soar high and wide, where no one and nothing can touch us. You make me want to hold on to you and never let go, no matter what, even as everything crumbles and shatters around us.
Loving you leaves me breathless, weary, and defeated. The broken sobs hurt my chest. The incessant crying leaves me feeling utterly hopeless and tormented. I want to throw my hands up in surrender. I want to curl into a tight ball and cry, cry, till there are no tears left. I want it to end. I just want it to… stop.
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Loving you gives me stability, where I had none. It gives me strength to hold on, a little bit more tightly.
Loving you is like a lesson in patience and endurance. It’s hurts like hell, but I’m still holding on.
Loving is you is messy, and I’m willing it embrace it with all of me, my whole heart.
It may not amount to anything, my love, but in my mind, it’s worth holding on to. At least, for a bit longer. I recently read that, ‘Hope is a rope; tie a knot and hold on.’ Maybe this makes me a hopeless case, but my love makes it possible for me to hold on.
Featured image source: Pixabay, under Creative Commons License
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