"Here is my secret. It is very simple: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.."- Antoine de Saint Exupéry


When she talked about love it was almost like talking about life itself. It has been a lifelong quest and mystery. Yet with her adult mind she could finally get close to what love was and what love wasn’t.
When she was young she imagined love must be a sort of peaceful place, very much like her home used to be when mom and dad didn’t argue violently because he drank too much or because something went terribly wrong. She knew things were not right with mom and dad, yet they were her only image of love.
And then , after dad was gone, her love image started to fade. Love was for her a place far away from that heartbreak and sadness and tension she used to feel floating in the air of that tiny place she used to call home. Home felt no longer like home…Love was the escape from that sad prison, was a pair of arms to hold her with no word instead of constantly blaming her for not being the perfect child. Love was a sunny day far far away…
Years have passed and she had grown. She had no idea how other women were like, she only knew that in her childish way of feeling life and the world she will one day find out what love is. She gave her best to the men in her life. Yet none of them ever came close to make her feel loved. She got so used to see them preoccupied only by themselves and their needs and wants, by their rules and pleasures, never looking at what she feels, never trying to ever make her smile, never caring… In the end they were for her a list of people, each one with other huge qualities and flaws, each one turning his back in their sleep instead of holding her near, each one thinking only about their damn control and desires, never about the beauty of love and life together… At that point she accepted that probably she was never to find the love. She was tired. Tired of always giving it all and seeing the man in her life only take and never care about filling up her soul with something too. Tired of feeding his soul with trust, strength, hope, tired of putting a shoulder to forever solve his problems and never getting to live a day when he was finally done with those problems and looked at her. Tired of being robbed of ideas and feelings, of giving all her love just to receive sometimes a friendly kiss… Tired of treating all like kings when they treated her like a pauper that needs to wait and forever be understanding and patient for one day, one day love will be possible. And that one day never came.
Some called her muse,  some good friend, some empath, some angel, and funny thing, they all said they loved her even if they didn’t because they were too busy loving themselves. They have all regreted her when she left. But she knew that none had really loved her. They were in love with how good she made them feel about themselves, not in love with her.
One day she knew that the change was there. She was tired of being alone. She was tired of giving love to people that could not love. She knew that she doesn’t need to proove anyone anything, because she was beautiful and that was all. She was, just because. She knew that she doesn’t need any man to tell her how golden she is. That she doesn’t care anymore if they ever had or made time for her. That it didn’t pain her anymore, for she had all the time in the world now, and she was no longer exclusively anyones but belonged only to herself. That was the day when she realised that SHE WAS THE LOVE. That she was healed of the lack of confidence and of all that cursed lifelong pain.

Love is patient, love is kind, love is childlike. Love does not feed the ego, but cares about the soul. Love IS. With no excuses, postponing, selfishness… It simply IS.

Do not think it, live it. In private, behind a closed door or in the open, regardless of the way how others judge you.

Love, true love, the capital “L” love, doesn’t need legal papers, money, it’s not a choice, it’s your number one priority, for if it’s true love, it fills up your soul so much that you can’t see anything and anyone else. And if you don’t feel it there, if you have to ask for it, beg for it, if you are the constant giver, if you forever need to wait for it to work, or if that love needs pretexts to be able to even start, then dear friend, keep going.

Trust me, one day you will understand what LOVE IS.

tumblr_m6bs6fHmQZ1r8m9xho1_500memyselfandela, 2013

6 responses

  1. I’m glad you are 🙂

    June 20, 2013 at 19:43

  2. Here I find my answer. You’ve resurrected your heart with joy and love that you truly are…Grazie

    June 24, 2013 at 12:53

    • Resurected is a great word… I wish I was only joy and love dear brother, but I’m only human. 🙂
      Grazie anche a te.

      June 24, 2013 at 13:13

  3. I think that this is my favorite of yours so far (I may have said that before but you keep outdoing yourself). It’s beautiful and strong and optimistic without being sentimental, it’s honest but not whiny. Oh, and it’s totally and completely true 😉 I saw a quote the other day that this reminds me of, I’ll just swap ‘love’ in for ‘yoga’ – Instead of being a human being in love, be a human being love…

    June 25, 2013 at 15:45

    • Many thanks my dear, you truly honor me, you are a far better writer than amateur me. 🙂
      I am not practicing yoga but I would like so much to be love just like the girl in the story, a story that has lots in common with several characters I know in real life. And I think I have seen quite a lot of real heartbreaking stories in my life… But honestly I still have a lot to learn about writing and being love myself… 🙂

      June 25, 2013 at 16:15

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