I dream to find a love I can rely on; a deep magic; the counterpart to my soul. What I cannot determine is who that person is. I know with no certainty when that person will walk into my life. Should I then reserve my love until then? Should I reject the love offered to me even though somehow deep down I know that love is only one of the seasons of my life?
During the healing from the most difficult break-up of my life, there were a few concepts that eased my suffocation: Love yourself and love your seasons even if they aren’t forever. Understanding that my break-up had to happen in my life for me to grow, helped me to realize that it didn’t end because I’m not fit for love. All the things I knew someone would love about me were still there. I also realize, however, there could be many seasons in my life before the one who loves all the pieces of me finds me. I say finds me because one of the other concepts that eased my singledom was that you can’t go looking for something that is meant to find you.
So yes, I’m deeply a hopeless romantic. I want to be moved in candlelight; see the stars in light they’ve never shown to my eyes before. I want to feel the dew of the grass kissing my skin while I discover them. I want to explore new trails figuratively and literally. I want to wander the vast world discovering beautiful stars that have people names. I want to feel the heat beating on my skin of cool evening fires, as well as crowds gathered to feel their muses pulsing in their souls. I want to curl up in the warmth of plush covers with plush meow-babies as rain patters the roof and windows. Believe it or not, I want to get lost in my emotions and cry sometimes, whenever a story ends -may it be in the form of pages, cinema, or the form of love. I want to release that negativity in the shape of warm drops of ocean that roll off my cheeks. I want to dance when no one is looking or around but also at times when everyone in the room is dancing; in the rain; in the moment, any moment; at night; in the sun.
I want flowers that I chose for myself because I knew what I’d like; because I knew I deserved the joy of seeing them each day. I want to make my body a canvas for the gifts of others’ talents. Then when I die I will be a unique masterpiece. I want to jump in the cool waters both feet first while sometimes dipping my toes in slowly easing my body into the radiating warmth. I want to wrap my arms around my pillows at night while I manage to spread my small self until I’ve stretched out to fill the entire bed. Some nights I want to curl up as small as I can to get used to one day having someone else there. I want to feel intoxicated, yes, by mixes of recreations, but also intoxicated by lust, euphoria, and the like. I want to laugh until permanent marks beautifully adorn my cheeks and eyes to show the giggles of my life.
I want to share my own talents so badly. I want to use the beauty of the world to translate through my talents. I want to admire the beauty of others and translate that into the woman I aspire to be. I want to admire my own beauty. I want to be aroused by the image of the woman I am. I want to feel the milk of the universe in the rain, the morning, in the deepest twilights, under the twinkling sky itself. I want to run my fingers through my hair and discover my skin with my finger tips.
I want to have a deep true love with myself because it is myself who will be there eternally when no one else is. It is myself that must be strong enough to keep on living when life gives me lemons. It is me that has to maintain the balances.
Still…
Should anyone want to love me too, I would be grateful to give love in return.
“To lose balance sometimes for love is part of living a balanced life.” – Elizabeth Gilbert
Comments