Saturday, November 21, 2015

Looking for Love

Life’s a little crazy sometimes. Well, for me, it seems like it’s crazy all the time. But, isn’t that what we all think? While we believe we’re unique and individual, aren’t we really pretty much the same, with the same needs, the same wants, the same desires? The only differences lie within the degree of each? Who knows? I may be wrong in that assumption. I can’t really speak for anyone else, only for myself, and in that… these are my individual wants, my own selfish needs, my own personal desires. What do I really want right now in the middle of my crazy life? What is it I’m looking for? I suppose it’s the same thing I’ve been looking for all my life… I’m looking for love.

I have love in my life, have had love in my life, and am sure I’ll have new love in the days to come. I’m loved by my kids, by my friends, and maybe even loved by a man or two. But, am I in love? Maybe, maybe not. I’m too damned scared to know, or too damned scared to try. The last guy I fell in love with, I fell hard, and I fell deep, and I fell on my ass because he didn’t fall with me. Hitting the ground after such a huge leap leaves a person scared to jump again no matter how much they want, no matter how much they desire to feel the rush of falling, the excitement of dreaming, and the hope of a future. But I want it.

I have a lot of love to give, but I also have a huge empty space inside that I desire to fill. I’ve made room for friends, I’ve made room for family, I’ve made room for the things in life and the dreams I dream, but I want to make room for someone that I can share that life, those hopes, and dreams. Last year, I closed that room when I thought I was going to die. It’s been a long road back to approaching that door, and having the courage to reach for the handle and throw it open. It’s been hard. It’s been scary. No, it’s been terrifying. But I did it. With the love and support of my dear friends, I’ve once again grabbed that zest, that desire, that hope to live. That part of me that was ‘living out loud’ is beginning to hear the music again. It’s been one hell of a climb back up the mountain. I’ve had some very steep parts that I was only able to hang onto by the tips of my fingers and pull my whole weight as I struggled to find a foothold. But, I’ve made it. Love helped me. Love guided me. Love lifted me, when I couldn’t lift myself. Ah, dang it, now I have that stupid song stuck in my head, “love lifts us up where we belong…” And now… now I have something to share and something to give. But, oh Mylanta, am I afraid. I’m so scared I’m trembling.

What if I fall again? What if I jump and find myself hitting the bottom on my own? What if, like another song I know, I find myself looking for love in all the wrong places? It seems I’m drawn to the weird, the awkward, the damaged, the broken, those who’ve been in the trenches and carry the scars, those that have walls as thick as my own, if not thicker, or to the impossible, the improbable, or the forgotten. I’ve never chosen the easy way, but damned… for once can’t it be easy? I think that’s why I love fairy tales and superhero stories so much… though they have great obstacles to overcome, everything always works out in the end. So, I keep hoping that someday it’s time for my story, my fairy tale, my day to shine… and love will come looking for me.

Till next time,

Princess of Impossible Dreams

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