Conversation on Love

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Writing poetically (or not poetically, just writing) about being in love and falling in love seems to be a stumbling block for me at the moment. This is not because I haven’t felt love; I’ve felt love abundantly, like a sugar bomb exploding in my gut. I’ve loved so much my cells ached and I was one thread away to falling apart if I wasn’t with them… note to self, this wasn’t a healthy love and didn’t end well.

Can you end love well?

The last relationship I was in, what can I say, it was intense. We met in America while I was on holiday. Me being British and he being American, maintaining a long distance relationship was top 3 of our priorities. It’s a way of loving I wasn’t familiar with. Our expression came purely through conversation; we stimulated each other with ideas, curiosities, and verbal explorations. If we argued we had to talk about it, we couldn’t play the card of saying we’re fine but the ridged body language expressing otherwise. We had to find ways to communicate exactly how we were feeling and not skate around the houses because like I said, we knew it was hard enough loving each other with such a distance between us. The effort to understand was magnified; this is why I believe the intensity between us was so strong. We saw each other physically for three months out of ten– crazy right? Point is despite the four-hour conversations each day and knowing each other on a level that surpassed physical cravings (shit, that was tough too because the cravings were strong) it ended really badly. Hateful words were exchanged and a complete cut off had to happen (of course it helped that we lived in different countries, I knew there was no supermarket I had to avoid or “has he a girlfriend yet” friends to harass). At the time, I thought what bad luck but it’s not luck at all is it? We attract into our lives what we feel we deserve and a highly intense, dramatic, physically starved and painful relationship was exactly what my subconscious was craving. Have I just answered my own question of ‘can you end love well?’ It seems no, I can’t. I’ve never parted from love on a high note but I’m sure there are people who have. Hats off to them.

Love is fucking complicated, we all know that, maybe the reason I’m finding it so difficult to write about love is because I’ve always thought loving outside of myself as the unifying force but I’m realising, it’s not. If times were good in the relationship, I was high on pink skies. If they were bad, I was drowning beneath murky waters. It’s like waiting for someone else to tell you exactly what you should be feeling that day – which, if I’m honest, is a power I’ve given way too many people over the years. It sounds crazy when I write it down but how easy is it to slip into the habit of handing the responsibility of your own life to others? Very. I never once thought about the words I used during self-talk or how I truly felt about the woman I am. My belief, if you can call something you’re not actively thinking about a belief, was I am who I am and I don’t need to give it much thought. News flash, I do!

All my relationships have taught me something but they have nothing on the lessons I’m learning as I begin to love myself.

Love myself, really really love myself. It has a wonderful ring to it, doesn’t it?

So, could it be that writing about love is a confusing topic for me right now as I’m discovering new territory. Self-love is a world away from lessons taught at school, we can learn about Tudor times yet not how to process our human emotions but hey, when are we gonna need emotions, right? We see how others are being treated, some we know, some through media coverage and Love seems lost in space with thousands of stray satellites, just forgotten. It seems that loving ourselves, honouring ourselves, accepting every part of who we are, well it’s a whole new language! So that’s it, I’m finding writing about love a floundering task because I’ve not quite learnt the language yet, bingo! I’m studying, everyday and more often than not it’s a trying process but its starting to make a little more sense. I can feel I’m honouring more, understanding more and truly embracing those uncomfortable sides of me that I’ve pretended didn’t exist.

I’m beginning to think that loving ourselves is the only role we have to master during our time on Earth because if we can get that right, the rest just seems to fall into place.

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