It’s not so black & white, this language. No fixed nor finite definition. Not in the arena of love. There is no Caesar with a thumb pointing up or down. It creates its own world, a language that no one has ever been able to transform from liquid to solid. Similar to love itself, love’s language cannot be contained, cannot be tamed, cannot be predicted how it will be responded to. It remains wild and uncertain and always will. It is messy, confused, enlightening and beautiful when spoken & learned.
The same words can conjure demons or delight in the listener, can summon demons from the past or placate the present.
It carries with it all of our memories, our pain and our bliss; it is we who choose how to hear what is said.
Love. The word has been written and spoken into oblivion. I do not say it without meaning everything it encompasses to me, but I say it sometimes without the feeling of it coursing through my body, making the hairs on my flesh stand up and making me feel as if I am floating. I say it sometimes without the kindness and adoration that should be shining behind my eyes, without the warmth and serenity and passion and overwhelming knowledge that I would do absolutely anything for who I offer this gift of my entire heart to. We say it in distraction, in passing, as an automatic response because we feel it is expected.
Love is required. Speaking it so frequently carries the danger of the word being diluted even when what the heart feels is still just as strong. Love is easy. It is the simplest fear to conquer when crossing the threshold into what could be, and we can not move forward without it. Love is beautiful, sacred, necessary… common.
I want more. To be able to express more in words. We see each other far too infrequently to let her know in actions, and I truly hate that. I feel short-changed, small, at times only the absent lover who dreams of a better time. Is this even real?
In conversation recently she tells me that she doesn’t want me to need her. I understand then what she means, my entire life designed & built & barricaded to depend on no one.
It is the first thing I was taught.
… but her words continued to echo in my soul. Her words hurt me. I let them. I needed them to.
Is it possible to truthfully tell another that you love them completely, with everything you are now, & everything you will become together, without in some way needing them?
When I think of my day, she is there, even if only briefly. Foolishly. Images attach themselves to every thought, in my mind I see everything I will do – walking with Ruby through the streets, always a different way… sitting in a cafe, will I be working, reading for work or reading for me? Or just sitting, watching people and creating stories around them.
Once I was alone in these things, these thoughts. Only Ruby & me or just me, I knew better than to hope for another to share these moments with, though at times another was with me, forever faceless, this fools heart simply wishing for someone to share things with – simple moments, simple times, laughter, thoughts…
This is not the need of our adolescence, when needing another showed weakness. There is no longer any question that we can care for ourselves, that we arent afraid to be alone. I do not need out of desperation, of addiction, of obsession. It is not a need that confines, not a need that chains one to another. I do not depend on anyone else… but over this last week I have realized that needing something outside of me is not as wrong or weak as I thought.
I know myself. I trust my heart. I do not confuse need with love. I keep them both separate and in doing so
keep them honest.
Love is necessary. Need is… is perhaps that little bit more we can say, terrifying to admit but if allowed and understood it breaks open the hard stone of our hearts and permits more light to shine out of them.
Language is dangerous. What we say, what we admit draws people in or pushes them away in fear. I cannot love anyone afraid of my words. I can only show so much in action, and there is seldom any poetry in making something for her or watering her plants. Haven’t figured how to do that one out yet… maybe if I dressed prettier while doing it… but
I want a lover who isn’t afraid when I wrap my arms around her and tell her “I will never let you go.” I want a lover that is not confined, who is ready & willing to risk everything because she truly believes in love. I want a lover who never does anything she doesn’t want to just for me… even though I would for her. I still haven’t figured that one out.
I want a lover who knows the only way past fear is knowledge. I want a lover that is so insanely complex that she has learned how to be simple.
I want a lover who sees the parts I do not show to anyone and still accepts them. I want a lover who I wouldn’t hesitate to imagine living the remainder of my life with – and do, frequently.
I want a lover who needs me, but is complete without me. Who has no problem with saying good-bye if I don’t meet her needs. I like being kept on my toes.
In her, each breath tastes sweeter. I want to do more, create more, live more, be more. I am inspred to give more, be kinder, to care about myself more… for me.
I have found this lover.
I only ask that she allows me to need her… she is the face in every image I have and have had, and I want to be allowed to give her more than my love.
This is a need that is built on strength…
I am strong enough, now confident and complete enough, to admit that there truly are some things
and some people besides and beside me
that I need.