November 12, 2010 § Leave a comment
I’m not sure if I would ever be able to define love. Or explain how it feels, in a way that would do it justice. But for a long time, I didn’t believe that true love was anything less that storybook perfection. But I was wrong.
I have always been wrong.
Because in real life, people don’t give everything up for each other. People don’t take enough chances. Or they don’t take any at all. In real life, people give up too easily. As if they are convinced that they will have another life, to do it all over.
We only have one life. And it’s too short.
And even when I found what appeared to be true passionate love…it didn’t mean that I got to keep it. Or that I should have been naive enough to believe that I deserved it. That I should have been naive enough to believe in any of it.
Because to be completely honest, people are cowards. They stay in relationships for the comfort and the routine. Too worried about hurting someone’s feelings. Or overturning their cookie cutter lifestyle.
In real life, people don’t walk into the middle of wedding ceremonies and profess their love. They don’t go down in flames trying to get back to love. They don’t drink the poison drink to die for love.
They just don’t.
None of this happens.
And I figured this out a long time ago. I figured this out the time that I moved out of my house. My own routine. When I moved away from my comfort to chase the musician with the hidden heart. When I chose to leave behind everything that should have made me happy, for some passion and a very misguided “I’m in love with you.”
When I took my whole world and somebody else’s and let it come crashing down all around us, for love. That’s when I figured it out.
Because when it comes down to it, I am going to die believing in the romances I read about in books. The romances I watch in movies. That I occasionally, am so humbled to see in real life.
Because if I stop believing in that, even for a second, I will become one of those cowards. Those people who will eventually wake up next to someone, and realize they are absolutely dead inside. And it will be too late.
I can’t allow that. Because allowing that, would mean giving up.
Throwing it all away.
And eventually, when I’m being smothered by the mediocrity of this life, someone will love me.
Someone will fight for me.
Someone will choose the girl.
“I say I’m in love with her, what does that mean? It means I review my future and my past in the light of this feeling. It is as though I wrote in a foreign language that I am suddenly able to read. Wordlessly she explains me to myself; like a genius she is ignorant of what she does.” -Jeanette Winterson