there are those people in life who define you. who without knowing it, make you who you are. i’ve to have two of them. two is few; not everyone is so lucky.
the first, i will never forget. i will never stop loving. i will never be that connected in that way again. never is a huge word. there are none more fitting. he drew while i watched. he loved before i knew how. in fact, he taught me how. how to love, how to embrace life, how to be completely selfless. i’m the one left drawing now. i’m still working on the last one. he had it down.
the second, he’s still here. i can’t imagine life without him. i’d be different. the sky wouldn’t look the same. a photo would be just a photo; abandonment would be unappreciated. i’ve opened my world to him, and he’s stepped in. when i was scared, he was sure; it was where he belonged. i’ve brought beauty in; he’s given love. strength is not always needed and weakness is invited. there’s beauty in that vulnerability. it’s like having a deep conversation while being naked. the safety of it all makes the unadorned skin pure. beautiful. even loved. only that person, that one person, would look at you in that way, tell you you’re beautiful while you’re crying, and embrace your body in all its pureness while you talk about your day. only he would be scared when you push him away for fear that he isn’t wanted or needed or enough. in those moments, who i am has been defined. the reactions and kisses and touches and questions all there, all meaningful, all perfect.
maybe this is confusing. sorry for that. it’s taken time, and its been hard. but i have learned, learned from the most amazing. and i have loved. i will love.
what i am trying to get at here, is that life is defined by who you love. and who comes into your world loving you back. now, what i ask, is how to capture that love? how can one possibly capture the love of that late night phone called when you felt scared and alone? or that love when you wake, looking down to watch him still sleeping? or that love when you fall asleep in his arms and stay that way til morn? or that love when he tells he has lied, as he cries, as that look in his eyes still haunts you, as you hug him not while your tears refuse to cease? or that love when he runs is fingers down your naked back and holds your body close to his?
love is not about the good times or about the bad ones. it doesn’t rely on romance or emotion. its not defined by any of these. yet it comes out in the most unexpected of times, when anger could come, or in those pure ones, when watching one sleep is better than sleeping yourself.
but how, how do you capture this love, all loves, that define you life?
