I think the thing about love stories that bothers me the most nowadays is that they feel so… forgetful. Alright, I’ll show you what I mean. Sit down. Here is your task: Put this book down and close your eyes and think of the first love story that pops into your mind before reading onto the next lines. Go!
What came to mind? Was it Romeo and Juliet? Twilight? Pride and Prejudice? Jane Eyre? The Princess Bride? Snow White? The Time Traveler’s Wife? Any of these? You did, didn’t you? Do you know why that is? What is the one thing all of these books have in common? Romance; a romantic kind of love. People falling in love and finding their happily ever after’s. When people think about a love story they are so quick to fall into this category. I ask you this – what about the other kinds of love? Why is it that we are so quick to leave all other forms of love out of the loop? But what about the other kinds?! Are they not profound enough? Are they not big enough? Not important enough? Love is my favorite part of life. Each and every form of it. They are all so different, so unique and yet, they are all still just love. The English language only has one word for love. Just love. 4 letters that mean so much all the time; and all at the same time! Have you ever truly thought about just how vast love really is.
Love is big! But it can also be small. So small. It can grow and can be broken even though you never water it or ever come to touch it. Love can be personal and universal. Love is fleeting and unending. How unchanging and yet varying it is. Love has no concept of time and you will never find a recipe for it. Love is always, exactly, every time, everything you make of it.
I love getting paid. Not to be confused with money.
But not in the way I love feeling like I’ve accomplished something. Accomplished my job. A job well done. No matter how small. And not in the way that I love seeing the people I work with pleased that everything went right that day.
I love ice cream for all of its flavors and textures; the way it cools me down on a hot day.
But not in the way that I love chocolate. The way it melts in my mouth and warms me from the face right down to the toes.
I love food.
But not in the way I love my US of A. The flag and our colors. The sheer history of it gives me goosebumps. How much this country has fought for and accomplished to become the greatest nation this world has seen! The men and women that serve her PROUDLY. I love and I stand behind it all.
But not in the way that I love my cat. She is my everything. Our bond is something I’ve never seen before. She knows me better than anyone I know. When she looks up at me I am the only thing that she sees. Every time. The way I pet her when she’s napping and she meows and looks up at me as if to say “oh, there you are!” And her love for me is renewed all over again; she looks into my eyes and I can feel the love she has for me. Unconditional.
I have loved every man that I said I loved. I’ve loved them, all in their own time and in their own way. Romantic yes, but each unforgettable and unique to me. From the Power of the Power, to spilled wax on white bathroom floors, to my one pro in an otherwise completely con-list of a life.
I love my God. But not in the way He intended me to. He is my Savior. My Beginning and my End. And I will love Him all of my days in the best way I can.
I love my father. My only family I have. And I love him all the more for it. I treasure each and every second I have with him. Not only in person, but every thought I have of him as well.
For I love my mother in a different way. A way that transcends this terrestrial sphere.
I love my friends unconditionally. Even after they are gone. I go on loving.
But not in the way that I love my best friend, Katie for she is my Soul Sister. The true semi that makes my soul not a half but a whole. It was, much like we were at ten years old, a young and innocent love, forever forming a deep connection that no matter how we may have tried to break this, it indeed cannot be broken. A love that can only be formed from spending a lifetime together; from truly knowing it is lifelong, still.
I love my best friend, John but not in the same way that I love Katie for John came later on in life. We shared a kind of love for each other that first had to overcome the past. Of shared stories of loves lost and a labored heartache. That formed bonds only heartache can bind together. He looked at me and saw something of a worth, reminding me that maybe I’m not as crazy as they think, or at least only as mad as him. And I'm fabulously okay with that.
I love Mark. In the only way I have left, the only way I know how to love a man like him. Whole heartedly and with every fiber of my being. Words are simply not eloquent enough. He is my journey and I love the twists and turns our shared journey takes us for love should never be without adventure. Love is, after all, not about a destination, but of the journey.
My mom used to say “love is what matters.” And now, more than ever, I know how true that is. Cars stop running, computers outdate, food spoils, plans go awry. Things break. Money is made, spent and lost. But none of those things are astounding. None of those things change your life forever. They might impact your life. Make it better or worse but they don’t make or break your life. And for those it does, my heart goes out to them for they are truly in need of love. Love. Love is what matters in this life. No matter how long or how short. For when you love, you Live On Very Exceptionally. Because love, my dear loves, is always the exception.
