I care for someone else more than I care for myself.
I can honestly say that with no ifs, ands or buts.
It is a peculiar feeling, this thing called love.
But what I have come to notice is that you do not have to be in love in order to love.
I love this someone in the sort of way that I do not pretend I can comprehend.
I cannot stay mad.
I cannot stay hurt.
I cannot ignore.
As hard as I tried to protect my heart from his presence, I failed.
And now that all is said and done.
The dating is over.
The lies are no longer withheld.
The dreams are broken.
The passion has faded.
Now that the end has come.
I realized, it is only a new beginning.
It is a bit scary to recognize that the word love still exists between us, but it is there.
It did not leave after our last date.
Or at the unveiling of the truth.
At the shattering of dreams.
Or the yielding of the passion.
Love remains.
And that is how I know it is real.
I would lay down my life in a heartbeat. I would scale mountains and pray for days and weep buckets if I had to.
Luckily, at this moment all I need to do is be an open ear.
To sit, to listen, to engage.
To be the one person in the world who cares enough to answer every phone call and speak with honesty.
I am thankful for love.
It has been a very long time since I have been able to say that.
I owe much more to him than I could ever give, but I hope and pray that my love is enough.
Words cannot describe.
Actions will fail.
I did not choose this love.
Love is a funny thing.
Even when it seems like a gallon of spilled milk on the new rug, even when it feels like a dead kitten on the side of the road, even when it looks like a broken mirror, love remains.
So here we are.
Love as real as ever gone.
A bewildered confession on paper of the preexisting confusion in my heart.
A vulnerable moment from a hardened heart.
Love is not without you.
