Saturday, November 30, 2013

And now for something more depressing than depression...

And that is Love.

I've been milling around the topic for a few days, for a myriad of reasons, but didn't really know what framework I wanted to put it in. 

I have been dating fairly actively since becoming abruptly single in February, and I haven't found that thing.  I've met lots of very cool people that I enjoy spending time with (sometimes even without clothing!)  And if that was all it took to foster love I'd have a preponderance of love, but there's something else.  If love were daisies, then I have sun and water and seeds... but I need some fertilizer. Ha.  I'm literally asking for shit.

I want distraction of the best kind, and surreptitious, constant texts of little import.  I want kisses that steal my breath, and discussion about nothing in particular, that are actually about everything.

I want to feel safe enough to storm about, throwing my things this way and that, knowing that person can and will weather it, without a second thought.  I want to weather the storms they birth, without wondering if they are miserable and on the verge of leaving.  I want safety in a battered harbor.

I want a religious experience.  I want to silently pray using our huge emotions, all entangled limbs in a dark room, to a god that exists in the space that our breath fills.  I want the kind of utter faith I can surrender to, that makes me believe not only in it's ability to make miracles, but makes me believe that I am capable of miracles too. 

I want a mirror that doesn't look like me.  I want to ask and receive.  I want to be asked of and give.  I want to be valued, pursued, dragged out of my own brain... not because it allows easy access to my underpants, but because it allows easy access to my soul.

It's fucking cheesy, I know, and I wonder if it really exists, or if I'm just describing the chemically pleasing state that pheromones and novelty produce when two people haven't tired of each other's fertilizer yet.

I need love.  But the last thing I need is another person who loves me without knowing how.


  1. Just moments after I read this, someone linked me to this beautiful post that I thought echoed what is written here. I thought you would like it.

  2. Cracked the shell, loverly. Pretty as a secret peach.