Love. I’ve written about it before and I will again in the future. It’s that BIG. Everyone desires to be loved. Everyone needs love. Love alone could heal the world…IF everyone loved each other instead of only themselves.
Love isn’t just a feeling. Love is a combination of many strong emotions. It’s a mixture of choice and will, as well. Love is intense. Sometimes subdued. Love is intertwined with another. Love is often misunderstood. Love can hurt. Sadly, and regretfully, I have unintentionally caused pain in the name of love.
Love is a curious thing, but often love is complicated. We fall out of love as easily as we fall into it. After we were married for many years, my husband told me that he loved me but wasn’t in love with me. Actually, that was an improvement over the beginning of our marriage. I didn’t know he didn’t love me when we got married until the day I heard him tell our children 19 years later. In the name of love, I stayed with him for 21 years. Love is a curious thing. And it causes me to do stupid things. It’s not an excuse. It’s my reality. I have done stupid things in the name of love.
There are many faces of love. Long ago, I loved bologna sandwiches with mustard and ruffled potato chips between two slices of white bread. I loved the song “Radar Love”. I loved horses, the color green, vanilla ice cream, and my dog, Heidi. I loved Greg Brady, and Mike Nesmith, of the Monkees. On our summer stays in Minnesota, I loved finding discarded cardboard and then flying down Indian Hill with my brother and sister. I still love fishing and rhubarb strawberry pie. And I absolutely love taking naps. As a young girl, I loved God, even though I didn’t understand the whole religion thing. God is the ultimate of love.
I still love God. I love my kids. And they love me. I am blessed with a handful of people that I love with all my heart. And there is a fair amount of people that I simply love.
I do know that all during my young years, I wanted to grow up to love a man, and to be loved by him. Ahhh…yes, I was a hopeless romantic from a very young age.
When in a relationship, I pour my whole being into it. I live and breathe it. It becomes my focus. It’s been a painful journey of self-discovery, of who I am, and why I search so desperately, and why I’ve chosen the wrong men. I finally discovered the cause and came to terms with it all a few years ago. I felt I lacked love as a young girl, therefore; I’ve searched all my life to fill the void. Now that I understand, I am more observant and much wiser. But I’m quite certain that I’m still capable of doing stupid things, even to the right man.
Love is beautiful. Even after enduring heartache most of my life, I will never stop believing in love. There’s nothing more beautiful. I watch lovers in a park, couples holding hands in the grocery store, the bride and groom at their reception, and an elderly man lovingly wipe the mouth of his wife of 65 years, and I desire to have that love for myself. Love isn’t blind at all. Love is seen by the heart.
I know this was a random topic and maybe it wasn’t at all interesting. But when I have something on my mind, it usually has to come out here. This actually interrupted another blog I’ve been working on for days. But that’s okay.
Be grateful for love in your life. ♥️
Photos: source unknown; a heart I found on the inside of a covered bridge; a rock I found