15.3.18 Evening light
There are some who would say I've been unlucky in love.
I have loved in my time, fiercely, tenderly, faithfully, but whether through fate or habit, when I have, it has rarely found its mark in a soul who was able to give it a full home. I have been loved, beautifully and kindly, but always somehow guardedly in return. Always an if, always a but. Always something held back, a distance or a mismatch or a line that can't be crossed. Them there. Me here, willing them closer. Them unable or unwilling to. Always that gap.
I have still treasured it, oh how I have. I have still valued it. Often it has caused them as much pain as it did me. The best they could give was given and the rest was just the way it was. I love the love that has been shown to me, the careful shapes it has taken, and I always will.
There have, of course, been long, dark times when something inside me has pointed to this unaligned love and whispered over and over, "You're just not good enough. That's why this happens. You're not worth more" and I have believed it. There are still days when that whisper echoes off every thought, but not so many now. Not so many.
I heard a song today and a refrain in it made me stop. It went:
But I couldn't love you more
That's what all this love is for
It's always an open door
What else could it be?
And I thought, yes, yes that is how I love. That is how I want to love. Fiercely, tenderly, faithfully, my whole heart open to it all and expecting nothing in return. Love as an invitation. An open door to walk through, only if, only if that's right. Always always.
And I thought, I have loved well. I still love well. I don't need to change a single thing.