Hi and welcome. I am many things, but I am an artist at heart. For the last several years, I’ve hit a wall and experienced writer’s block. Now, through love and loss, I am back. Hope you enjoy my new piece.
What does love look like, my therapist asked.
5 minutes into our first session, she spoke as if she could sense the water forming behind my jaded eyes, as if she somehow knew me.
Love looks like…him, I whispered.
More in an attempt to convince myself than as a response to her question. Yes, love looks like him, I declared.
His sincere eyes and lively smile shining against the canvas of his smooth, mature skin.
His defiant curls, sneaking out beneath his cap, which he rebelled against and always combed back. How I loved running my hands through that perfect mane.
His style, an unapologetic and authentic balance between rocker and corporate exec.
He walked with confidence, smiled with ease, tasted like heaven and felt like home.
Yes love looks like him…
Go on, prompted my therapist, what does love look like?
Love looks like the way he looks at me laughing uncontrollably at his clever jokes. The king of comedy, he lit up my life with laughter.
The way he grilled steak for me in the rain, not minding the risk of getting wet, just wanting the satisfaction of knowing my soul was feed.
The way our minds connected so effortlessly and so endlessly. Like the ocean tides dancing against the rocks and basking in the sun, we existed without force.
Love looks like the perfectly made bed we jumped to make in the mornings before heading out to get our coffee. It was simple, comfortable, a product of equal effort.
It looked like two birds perched up on a branch. Each born with the need to be free, but staying together by choice.
Love looks like the way he kissed every crevice of my being and told me I was enough…..until I wasn’t.
What do you mean, asked my therapist….
I don’t think love looks like him, anymore I confessed.
If love looks like him, he would be here, and I wouldn’t be here. And my heart wouldn’t feel abandoned, unwanted. unclaimed.
If love looks like him, we would be speaking the same language. But we aren’t. And there is no Rosetta Stone that could help me understand why you led me to a dead end, instead of a destination.
The same hands you used to kiss and caress my scars were the same hands you used to pray back open the stitches.
You knew this was where we were heading. I should have obeyed the road signs.
No, I don’t think love looks like him, I repeated.
If love looks like him, I wouldn’t be questioning why I wasn’t enough for him to stay, for him to want to make a way, despite our opposite paths.
If love looks like him, I wouldn’t try to seek the high in order to escape the pain.
If love looks like him, I wouldn’t feel triggered every time I am asked to reflect on my last happiest memory.
If love looks like him, I wouldn’t need, you.
How does this make you feel, interrupted my therapist.
Annoyed, I began to wonder why I paid this much for questions I already asked myself. Like shit! I screamed.
Love has never been a friend of mine and it has never wanted to see me happy. In every lifetime, Love has robbed me of my innocence and forced me to fight for survivial.
But this… This was a breathe of fresh air. The greatest inhale of purity I’ve ever experienced.. I felt like a newborn baby entering the promised land.
Finally, I thought. Love has decided to not forsaken me.. That I had earned my right, as a spiritual being, to experience a human connection.
And just like that, you slipped between my fingers and I was forced to wake up from my dream.
Unanswered questions, untold perspectives, the only closure I experienced was my lips sealing the envelope to the letter I wrote you….
You denied me of the right to know why and how we got here.
So I finalized my pain in a way that would permeate your mind, every time you read my feelings and felt my absence.
I just want answers. But me and you aint the answer.
No, love does not look like him, I declared…
Love looks like something more…it has to be something more.
Love looks like the rise and recession of the sun. There is certainty in its existence. You don’t have to earn its presence, it will always show up, every time.
Love looks like a child picking out his favorite toy. The toy is special to him and he will choose the same one, time and time again.
Love looks like the fear of getting a tattoo. You know pain in inevitable. But you also know how beautiful the finished canvas will be so you are willing to take your chances.
Love looks like what we could’ve been, if you were willing to take the risks with me.
Love looks like everything you were too afraid to be.
Love looks like the way I was willing to love you.
Myy Truths. 