I have stayed home today, since I have got quite a headache and more than a few things on my mind. And I have been thinking about love, as one does, when one is an insomniac and feeling nostalgic. Cheddar asked recently what love is, and the funny thing is, I don't think love is just one thing. I don't even think it it is possible to put "love" into one category. But here are some examples of the categories I have:

Familial love - I love my family, for example. They drive me fucking crazy sometimes, but at the end of the day they are always the people that are going to be in my life. I love it when my mom sends me Twizzlers and socks. I love it when my stepfather sends me web advice. And I love my dad simply because now, more than ever, he is trying to be a dad for the first time in my life. I'm not bitter about that-sometimes people just need a little bit of time before they can come to terms with their feelings.

Security Blanket Love - I do love my Partner Unit. He is stable and secure and wild about me. No, I don't get wall-ripping orgasms, and no, I am not sure if he is the one I will always be with. But in spite of me being such a Fruit Loop, he takes gentle care of my nutball feelings.

Salt of the Earth Love - I love my Best Friend and my Dear Mate. Both of them are men, and if I am honest with myself I admit that I am a bit in love with one of them. They know so much about me and provide me with a stable dock that I have to tie myself to, from time to time, when the surf gets a bit too rough.

Sprog Love - I don't have kids, but I recognize, in others, that they are one hell of a powerful force. Like Isabel times ten. And for some people, Sprog Love has veto power over all of the other kinds of love in life.

Flammable Love - Wild, crazy, haunting, catch the world on fire love. Where there just isn't enough fucking time in the world for all the things you need to say and all the ways you need to touch. I have had this kind of love twice, and I know I am extremely lucky, that it's a gift. Sometimes people never even meet someone that catches them so completely that they can never be the same again. They spend their life looking, or settling, or avoiding. But I have had it twice. People who say this kind of love can never last are wrong- I will never let either of these men go in my heart. Never.

Omnipresent Love - what happens when Flammable Love evolves into something bigger-the ability to know that there is one other person out in the world that has you in the center of their thoughts and feelings, even when their attention on you is not so obvious. You still catch fire when you are together, but the smoldering times when you are apart are no less poignant. It's passion with a twist.

I think the first time we fall in love in life, the first time that we can inexplicably and completely fall with every ounce that we know how to give, we at once tear ourselves apart and build ourselves back up again. We create a whole new building out of something that is built on someone else's blueprints and foundation. It's almost like we forgot how to breathe while waiting for them to show up.

If the love doesn't succeed, well...there really is no recovery, only an intermittent sense of betrayal, a lost feeling that keeps us wandering around in life from then on, a little more hardened, a little more sad at each sunset, and a little more wary of the next lover who tries to sweep us off our feet. But that lover invariably comes. And with their arrival, we must decide-can that whirlwind feeling be lost, or can we hold on to it? Can we find ourselves spinning in the midst of falling snowflakes, or should we always complain that it's too cold?

I can't look behind me anymore and mourn what is lost or what could have been. I know that the mistakes I've made in life are my own, and truthfully, I wouldn't change a thing. The lessons I learned from my past lovers have shaped me into who I am today. The clay is hard but willing, and slowly I see signs of something unique on the potter's wheel. The form is scarred and cracked, but oddly resilient. The sculpture is singular in so many ways, and I have given it a name.

I call it “Me".

-H.

PS-forgive all the metaphors.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 04:03 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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