letters to my love (2)

hey there-

can i tell you how it all started, how you won my heart? It’s not often that fairy tales come true. It’s not often that happily ever after becomes a reality. And let’s be honest, who wants to be happy forever? No, really? The age old adage of opposition in all things is a defacto recipe for success in all things. If fairy tales came true and princes rode in on a gorgeous white stallion to secure love everlasting I think I would slit my wrists or swallow a bottle of pills. I’m no sadist. And no, I’m not wearing thick, black eye-liner either. I’m a realist. Eternal bliss offers no understanding of pain, sadness, conflict, and struggles. To be happy we must have moments that separate themselves from that happiness so that we can define joy, pleasure, and delight.

But I’m not writing about happiness. Not at all. I’m writing about love. That mythical and elusive chemical reaction that has escaped the finite formulas of science yet has animated the lives of poets and artists since humanity came into being. “Love is a many splendid thing, all you need is love.” The melody is familiar the sentiment so powerful. Love has thrown civilizations to war, lifted up great monuments, and torn down the strongest families. Love is a fantasy. Love is a battlefield. Love is, fucked up. Love is beautiful.

I have fallen in love with more men and women then I care to admit. One such person told me that, “love is an all or nothing game. Either you win or you lose, but no matter what you have to let your whole heart fall in love.” That has become a lesson that I will never forget and yes “love hurts,” and it stings to lose the one you love but is there only one?

Perhaps I am revealing a bit more about myself than I should but yes, I have been in love with more than one man at a time. I have been in love with a man and woman at once. I have feigned love when it was the one thing that lacked. I have struggled to define love and to choose the greater of my loves. I have loved a bowl of ice cream and loved my dear talkative grandmother. I have loved my dog, more than I ever thought possible. And this weekend I felt the rush of new love, love at first sight.

I’ve never attempted to pen to paper, or should I say finger s to keyboard, when it comes to the subject of love but now that I am ashamedly attempting to describe it I understand that sometimes woeful languish, pure extase and often lofty speech of our earth’s greatest minds. I grasp that love is without definition. How can one describe that feeling you get in stomach as your entire world spins uniformly toward the same goal yet settles at the top of your throat with elation and a rush of pure ecstasy? The words seem so inadequate.

Meeting that man for the first time and instantly you feel a connection that is beyond words, a connection that seems to pull you from solid ground to some destination at least five feet off the ground. At times it starts ever so gradually then at other times you are hurled from one reality to land of butterflies and unicorns where every day the rainbow comes out to greet you. Alright, yes, that is too much. It’s almost disgusting how vile the description of love can become. I suppose that’s why I’m not a poet. But this time I felt it. It was as real and tangible as the world we call home. I felt love.

The very first moment that I saw him I smiled both inwardly and outwardly I’m sure. His glance was simple but his grin was so broad and his eyes seemed to ignite. I was immediately drawn in. But it was so much more than just physical appearance. There was a magnetism that drew me to him and it was clear that the sensation was mutual. I smiled.

I smiled and cherished the moment. I smiled a slow, exciting pensive smile as I sat and watched this person that I somehow knew I was connected to before I even spoke with him. I smiled with my whole face as I felt the coursing of pheromones and endorphins through my body. I was certain that I was caught staring more than once and each time he smiled back.

My heart skipped a beat, as it usually does and I liked it. I reveled in that feeling of lightheartedness and unease as my heart opened the door to my soul and allowed another heart to see inside. In only a moment, just a brief instant we found ourselves connected from across the room.

Soon we were drawn closer and cordial words soon gave way to a friendly touch and a lingering handshake. We found ourselves embracing before we even touched. Side by side we sat and allowed flesh to meet in that subtle way two hands travel along the same path and coincidentally and quizzically encounter each other as if by the most purposeful accident. Rush.

The moments turn to hours and conversation leaps from one topic to the next. The audience that surrounds us, the crowds that stand between us seem to disappear and at the same instant they usher us closer. As night bleeds on meeting its death with sunrise or time has only yet begun. Hours turn to yet another day.

I couldn’t help it. I’m not sure if it was the absolute fatigue of having stayed up nearly 26 hours straight or if It was the pulse between us. I stared at him with a smirk of pure pleasure. It was only the beginning.

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