Saturday, November 21, 2009

To Be In

I was loved once, or I was once the recipient of what I thought was undying love until it died. I will never again question the existence of death in the life of mortals because we die! Everything associated with man dies. Sure, a few fossils will remain for the aliens to probe, that is if they do not have enough information already, but most things will be consumed by death. Will anything ever remember the self- defeating; self-destructive species that once treaded the earth? Maybe, God knows the planet will be in such a state that we will be remembered as the prime example of “what you must NOT do to your home”. But, I digress. The topic was love.

To fall in love is to be slowly undressed. To stand before the glaring eyes of another and yell out loud and proud, while naked,  “I am perfect. With my scars received from the battles of life, my warts handed down the family tree, and my extra weight gained from years of experience, I am your gift. I am the one that shall stand by your side when the whole world chooses to condemn you.  I am the one who will fight your battles when you are weary. I am the one who will lie beside you when you die. I am the one who will sacrifice all that I am that you may be all that you want to be. I am the one who will stand behind you in times of glory. I am the only one you will not be indebted to. I am the one who will love you." This unwritten vow of love does not end hear, for the selfish nature of man is yet to play its part in this obvious tragedy.

In time, dreams will have been sacrificed and compromises will have been made. And just as love came out to play, so did hate. The eyes of the lovers eventually open and the truth of the nature of man is revealed. The battles begin and with them come pain. The walls that once held up the home begin to crumble as insults and judgements are traded back and forth. Eventually the weaker of the two backs out with tail tacked between the legs, head held high and the realization of self-imperfection weighing heavily on the chest. Truth dawns, this was not LOVE at all.  

To be in love is to be in the company of the one person who takes a very close look at you and vomits at the sight of all your imperfections. Once the nausea passes they begin to see the beauty in you. Nothing you do could possibly surprise because they know you, they feel you, but they are not you. They will be the first to let you know when you are wrong. They will pick your ass up and throw you back in the fight when you are weary. They will keep your memories alive when you die. They will be all that they can be and support you in being all that you can be. They will stand beside you as your partner in times of glory and defeat. Your debts will cancel out because you value one another. In this honest union, the selfish nature of man is allowed to play its role, to allow for the humanness of the the lovers. What about the hate? That was expelled with the vomit.



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