As I was sitting here at my computer screen today I had a passing thought on love. Someone I care very deeply about, let us call her My Wife, as she is one of my closest friends, has once again been told by the man she loves that he simply does not feel the same way. Since I’ve known her this is the third time a man she’s fallen for has told her this very statement. She opens her heart up to people who are not worthy of her care and affection. She falls and gives herself over, and then these men find a way to break her heart. It is never her; they tell her she is amazing and wonderful. So she is. That simply doesn’t stop them from leaving.
Why is it that those sorts of things continually happen to good people? Is it a fear so deep and intrinsic that we somehow bring it upon ourselves time and again? Are we doomed to repeat the same mistakes, to fall for the same type of person over and over? Or perhaps is it some cruel twist of fate that will repeat until we learn to break away from the pain? Who is to say…
I know that, for me, I’ve been exactly where My Wife has. I’ve been the victim of repeat. I fall for the same type of emotionally distant and unavailable men. I’ve been the runner up, the fill in until something better comes along. I’ve given myself over time after time only to be left. I’ve been emotionally abused, used as a way to pass the time, used as a shield by a man without the courage to admit his sexual preferences, and been told that being with me induces so much guilt that a break was necessary.
I have no advice to give my wife this time around, but her situation did lead me to think about the men I’ve loved. This blog has been dedicated to bringing the light of day to the numerous awkward and odd situations my need to be desired has brought. Sometimes people rise to the top of those experiences and become something, or someone, unforgettable.
I have loved four times. This may seem a bit excessive to some, but on the spectrum of emotion there are many forms that love can take.
The first was the first. It was tender, new, and fragile. It was easily given and easily broken, an introduction to the way things could be. Just as love can be kind, love can be cruel, and this one was both. It lured me in with promise and cast me to the curb filled with regret. This love was mourned for some time.
The second love was comforting, the kind you feel for a person you know will be in your life, in some form, for always. It’s the kind of loyal love you feel for one who makes you happy, even when you know it’s not the forever kind. It’s the bond between people who truly get along, truly enjoy each others company. It was ease and laughter and time well spent together.
The third love was bright, passionate, and burned like fire. It swept through the whole body and scorched down to the soul. It was the sort of love that changes you in ways you never imagined, perhaps for the better or perhaps not. This love was so bright it was blinding, more dangerous than anything because it was utterly and completely one sided. It was a love that leaves you trembling and you know a piece of you is lost to that person.
The fourth love, ah, well now. That sort of love is a delicate and unique combining of all three. It is at times comforting and kind, new and tender, burning and bright. It is a love made stronger because it is returned, tenfold, one hundred fold. It’s a love that will endure. Or at least, I hope it will.
I broke away from my pattern. I took a chance, one last chance, and shoveled the pieces of my mangled heart to a person I was unsure deserved them. He did.
So I tell My Wife: Don’t give up yet. Don’t hold on to your brokenness and wrap it around you like a cloak. Don’t build walls even when you think you will never love again. It happens in the most unexpected ways, when your guard is down and you are vulnerable.