I always wanted to believe that there is this one crazy, out of control type of love. But, as I get older I come to realize that maybe that crazy spiraling out of control love has to do with how much we love and cherish ourselves. I truly believe that you can't love someone else, until you love yourself. And thats such a complicated concept, because there are so many things you will do as a human that will make you hate yourself. And on top of that add the expectations of society upon you, self love is a difficult concept to master.
I guess this is a reminder to myself most of all then anything else to love myself. I often forget how important self- love is.
There was a time when I would come up to my mom, and ask her " Mom, do you love me?" and I always knew that she would say yes, but I think that there is something to words that people miss. I think they are very validating to those of us who speak more so in the written form than in any other form. Its reassuring. Its liberating. Its healing.
I learned through time that every person has their own language that they are comfortable to speak through, mine tends to be letters. Some speak through lyrics, dedicating songs to you. Others, dedicating their passions. But, I think it is important to find your own language. Its important to share, I suck at sharing. And mostly because, I don't want to share and not be shared back with. And maybe that is selfish, maybe some people are incapable of sharing, or they are sharing but there is miscommunication. Which makes me a little selfish to want to experience people. Somedays, I want to share my story but other days I want to hear other peoples story. I want to live in a fulfilled world, where sharing happens because you are filled with so much emotion that it is literally too much for one person alone to bare.
Which leads me to wonder, if broken hearts are at first like a shattering vase, falling and breaking into a thousand pieces. And then slowly, the vase gets put back together but its not perfect as it once was. It has ridges and parts of it are rough around the edges. In my mind the vase smooths over, overtime. Like a rock that sparkles in the sun, because it has been constantly rolled back and forth and back and forth in the sand giving it a luster feel. And then overtime, people are ready to share.
I guess in the end of the day, I like the feeling of knowing that I loved. I think its a comforting feeling to know your heart has been broken before. Its almost reassuring because, if you are capable of loving after you have been broken then you truly know about living.
I guess I'll sign off with this, I've loved, I've lost, loved again but most importantly I've also truly lived.