At first, it was light.
Forgoing any sense of trepidation, I set a course toward the most powerful sense of genuine love my heart has had the honour of owning in its guarded existence. Toward the warmth of its unimaginable glow my soul drifted with ease, craving each love lust surge as my heart pumped violently. My essence proceeded, believing in its entirety, my broken heart, would now be saved.
I gave everything, each tasty morsel of my soul. Letting the desire consume me, devouring every part of who I was. Presenting bits of my character I’d never delivered, broken shattered pieces of me, I’d never divulged. It was with ease; I let love flow passionately through depleted anxious veins. The cage that once secured my captive heart, open and willing to let love inside. Butterflies whispered and danced throughout my stomach at the thought of a love so grand.
Each glorious morning my spirit awoke, it filled with the beauty and security of wondrous love. The belief in a Fate so golden, so remarkably full of love, it seemed my heart was pushing through my chest. In awe of what life had given me, a soul content in another. Grateful for every moment my heart was fortunate enough to feel irrevocably exposed. Given no choice but to believe this must be what every love lost poet has written on pages for me to read, no alternative but to accept this was true love.
There was no choice but to give all of myself to the sincerity of its reverence, owned by a fortitude of trust; I wrapped myself comfortably in a blanket of protection weaved in love.
And then it got dark.
Pulled directly from my chest, with fists covered in salt, suddenly the sting of unrequited love was being replaced with what I thought was destiny. Gone was the passionate blanket I’d weaved around my heart. A wretched quivering fever returned to where I’d let love once replace its fear and mistrust.
Without notice the door to the cage protecting my heart slammed closed. The crushing sounds of shattered confidence falling to the floor, sending waves of persecution throughout my body. An ache I’d never known. Tears stained my cheeks as my breathing became tempered, my heart pumping violently but with sickness instead of passion. Pure agony ripped at the lining of my stomach while I tried desperately to make sense of it all.
Darkness fell upon my courage. The same vulnerable heart that feared to let love in, once again believing it wasn’t good enough for love at all. Insecurity rushed deeply through the sickness of my weak, foolish mind, placing blame on my inadequacy to be loved. And as wildly as my heart fastened itself to the love of another, it was as quickly forced to reclaim a place in the cage I had carefully secured it before meeting what I deemed the match to its soul.
My heart not broken, not taken or wasted. But pieces I give, never needing returning. Loving deeply, hurting honestly, giving into emotion with each cell in my soul.
That is how I love.