A question about love

 

Accepting the fact that love is recreating me, and acknowledging my pure ignorance I want to ask a question about love, may be about unfulfilled love. I don’t understand neither the status nor the process, may be because I was left in the beginning of the journey. Most people would say “dumped” rather than “left”. My friends are worried, not really worried, but they keep repeating that I should stop doing what I do. My writings annoy them, they can’t see me in these words, or they don’t want to see me associated with such profound feelings. I am still trying to comprehend, I love you, I think about you day and night, I can’t resist to smile whenever you come across my mind, I swear that I hear lovely music for a few seconds when I remember you. I have to admit I became creative with my whatsapp messages, I knew how to drag you more to longer answers, or maybe you became slightly merciful, or could my prayers have been answered and that you are giving my love a chance?

When teenagers fall in love, they are accused of being hasty, unbalanced and immature, but even they complain of its sheer pain. I am not a teenager, although I am hasty, unbalanced and immature, and I still complain of its sheer pain. Nothing soothes me, the meetings where I accept my unfair destiny as a friend, a friend who is reminded every now and then that he is just a friend, may be a good friend, a close friend, but he is still “a” friend. Even sating and repeating “I love you” does not help, it is washed away by an immense ocean of indifference. Isnt strange that after all these years, I am starting to question the true essence of words. Do we say something so that others can hear it or just to release our emotions and free ourselves from the unbearable pain? “I LOVE YOU”, it doesn’t ring any bells for you, but it shatters me, it kills me and bring me back to life with every breath, what a strange feeling, extreme lightness and striking heaviness at the same time, a battle between life and death. My own existence is challenged by this short straightforward sentence, who am I, where are my own boundaries, and to what extent I can unite with you. I feel lost, metaphorically, literally and even physically, totally lost in you. It is strange, I don’t want to own you, I want us to be united, and in order to reach such a state, I love to offer myself to you, to be lost in you. I have always believed and felt that I am a tribe, men, women, elders and mischievous children, all my tribe is surrendering to you , willingly, lovingly and without a pinch of shame. The men of my tribe move towards you with dignity and pride, knowing that uniting with you is the only  proper and logical thing to be done, the women of my tribe move towards you cheerfully and energetically, knowing that it’s a natural return back home, even the elders are moving towards you with all their wisdom, they understand that uniting with you is inevitable, and the children of my tribe run here and there, laughing, splashing colors and singing loudly, who can control happy children. My tribe surrendered to you, before I realize. Now what can we do?

My therapists would say…. But why do I even care, I don’t care about my therapists or my friends or the silent observers and those who cant see me as a man in love. I really don’t care, I love you, and I lost my tribe, and with them I lost my dignity, clarity, cheerfulness and wisdom, if I ever had any. I am not selfish, at least I hope I am not, but sometimes I feel that I need more than the echo of my words, I feel that I need to know that my words are watering the paradise of your ego, that my words are heard, remembered and change your mood a bit in gloomy days. Your love is stronger than me, I am admitting that I am vulnerable, not always, but now I am weak and need to feel that one day you loved me, and that my words count.

My question is, so what? I love you, and then what? When will a lover by satisfied, or is that sense of contentment the beginning  of the end of that love? Does love require such agitating feelings, where I am always asking for a sign, a reminder or a faint smile. Chasing a mirage, is that what love is?