Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Loving (only) the idea of you.
So this is what happens when you take a three and a half hour nap...inspiration and thought. I had forgotten how comforting the quietness of night can be. For many years I found myself swaddled in darkness, yet afraid of the Universe. But one night we went walking and three things happened. The first, was a shooting star passed overhead-- the first I had seen as an aware young adult. So of course I took this as a sign of fate that we were somehow destined to be on this walk together. I in turn wished for your love. (Now, six years later I am remembering the phrase, 'Be careful what you wish for.') While you did in fact later love me, I believe that that very wish which forced you to love me, blinded my ability to see and feel what real love was. That passing star and subsequent wish lead me to wishing on every future star, never fully-able to be content with what I had. I previously mentioned that three things happened on this fateful night. The first, the darkened shooting star. The second, the birth of 'star-planet'. The reddish glow of what I believed to be a star of my very own was your first opportunity to point out harshly that I was wrong, and it was in fact a planet. What seemed to be specially placed in the sky for me was in fact the birth of a symbol of your constant criticism. But I, the ever-naive and optimistic teenager, took this disagreement as another sign of how you were meant to love me. But the wish I cast on that shooting star and the birth of star-planet did not create the picture-perfect romance I predicted. They were instead the backdrop to a mini-universe of chaos, pain, and suffering...a fact I would not realize for nearly four more years. The third thing that happened during this midnight walk was the moment when I convinced myself you were someone I should love. I had asked the universe for your love, but I had not asked to be able to love you. Instead, I fell in love with the idea of loving you. We were two jaded, bruised, and scarred individuals who had no business being in love; but I was convinced you could love me and I could love you...and in the end, we would save each other. For two painful years, I found myself cursing the stars and wishing for a lost happiness, without realizing I was never meant to love you; I was never meant to find happiness with you. As I gazed up at tonight's sky, I reflected on the person I was six years ago and compared her to the person I am today. I no longer wish on stars. I no longer vie for love. I am content walking among the stars alone or in the company of my wonderful husband and dog. The love I have for my husband was not concocted on a wish, it was found at first-sight...the best kind of fate; and over time it grew deeply within each of us individually and as a pair. While it may seem ideal to wish for love on a shooting star, you are never certain of what you may end up with. I find it best to just leave it to fate.