Tuesday, February 26, 2013

a tapestry

    When you intertwine and mingle so tightly with another person, it’s hard not to lose parts of yourself when you try to pry apart and be a singular being again. Like sticky, clingy fragments of a substance, the individual threads of a tightly knit fabric. It’s often you don’t come out completely whole, or sometimes not whole in any sense, and instead need that time to repair and rebuild. And, like most things in nature, when the process is complete you come out better than you were before. Stronger. With more substance.

    If I would feel pride for any characteristic, it would be my ability to love. To love honestly and fiercely, with raw intensity.To love with everything I have. The passion in the soul of the woven tapestry of unity is what I desire. Though it is harder to break in the end, the experience of the rebuilding process has made me me. Honest. Fierce. Raw. Intense.

    If I have learned a generic lesson, it would be this; The mistake that people often make is to look for the logic in love, and forget about the heart. The magic that makes love worth having. The breaking down of the chemistry is just that: the emotion broken down. When you break something down it is not it’s self anymore. It is altered. It has new meaning, a lessened fragment of a meaning.

    I have spent many, many sleepless evenings and caffeine induced stupors in a meditative and entranced state of self enlightenment. Question after question, wonder after wonder. Thought after thought, sending my own head in circles, but sometimes to the result of a gratifying epitome. Sometimes, however, all I get is back to the same question; “Is it not worth dwelling on because we’ll never know the answer, or will we never know the answer because we don’t dwell enough?” In which the torture of the sickening spinning process starts all over. Then, the biggest enlightenment of all. In asking myself a million questions to define myself, I came to the realization that it is the questions themselves that answer who I am. The words I chose so carefully, the phrasing, the particular instinctual conclusions I draw for how I want to question my thoughts and actions. The more I judged my judgements and yearned for my lack of yearning, the more clearly I saw me. I was going about it the wrong way. Forgetting to think in abstracts. And all at once, and for the first time in my life, I completely knew and understood and loved myself.

    The mistake that people often make is to look for the logic in love, and forget about the heart.

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