So when I was younger I religiously read one of our daily newspapers, The Daily Nation, because it had this comic strip – Love is – which it turns outs, has an awesome love story about its creator and how she drew the cartoons for her future husband… *swoon*
I used to race each day to find what love was each day and I savored every reading.
Recently, I have been wondering what love really is — especially now that life has happened to me and things are not what I thought they would turn out to be.
Turns out that love is not as simple for me as I thought it would be. Unrequited feelings, loss, and personal tragedies make it difficult to ease into love or even to trust that things work out. Isolation is a safer space than it should be for a romantic… and I am far more familiar with loneliness than I ever thought I would be.
But this is not the only story about what love is or has been. I have loved many wonderful souls and some were really wonderful people to love. I have loved others who did not love me back. I was loved by some that I did not love back. So, really, love has been a retrospectively wonderful experience.
Some days, though, like today, love seems to be one endless journey of searching, connecting, disconnecting, falling and failing, and I suppose for the most part, just waiting. Waiting for something magical to find me and surprise me and stick with me… in the most pleasurably challenging ways.
