Love is a scary concept. The idea of breaking down my walls and sharing my life with another sounds overwhelmingly complicated. My head is full of oceans that swallow me into the depth of despair and mountains that lead me to the height of resilience. Oftentimes I cannot fathom the sudden changes in my weather; tell me how am I supposed to explain to you that some days I “love” you and other days I wish I had never met you? This or that, how do I convince you that it’s me, it’s always me and my changing weather, it’s never been you at fault. The thing is, I felt love, just not the way you felt it. I felt love when the sun painted my pale skin with golden glitter. I felt love when the wind stroked my long untouched rosy cheeks.
How come most love stories always involve two lonely hearts meeting as one, anyway? True love isn’t always found in a significant other. Ask me, I’ll tell you the truth. The truth is we grow up with fairy tales and movies with the notion that someday our knight in shining armour will appear and we’ll just know, “this is the one”. Why do we ignore the true love that we grew up with? The love our parents, friends and family gave us. The purest kind of love, yet the love we take for granted. In our lonesome days we long for the one to save us from ourselves and forget how love starts within us and flourishes with the help of the people around us.
Love is a scary concept. I am complete and I do not seek a “better half” for my better half lies within me. I am whole and I do not want to cut a piece of me for someone else, I long for eternal growth.
When two loving souls speak so fondly about each other – with dilating eyes, widening smiles, faces radiating with love – I ask myself why love is a scary concept… But maybe it’s not – maybe it’s just me and my ever-changing weather.