Sometimes it comes like the falling of snow, gentle and quiet. Other times it is a blazing inferno that burns everything in its wake, but underneath it all, buried deep in the ashes, seedlings remain. The hope for new growth, and new life.
I’ve seen it all. Breakups and makeups. Marriages that last for a minute, and marriages that last for a lifetime. Love lost, love gained…toxic love. On the sidelines, I have watched relationships be born, and I have watched them die. I am no stranger to love —though I have little experience with it.
But, perhaps love is not something that can be learned, or understood, through second-hand experience. As someone who pursues knowledge whenever, and wherever, I can this is something that bothers me to the core.
You see, my love I cannot classify or understand. It follows no rules, it knows no boundaries or reason—it just endures. Even after all these years, even after the tears, the distance—and his silence. My love remains a secret ember burning brightly in the center of my soul.
I’ve tried, and tried, and tried again to forget him to no avail. Everyday, I lie to myself that I have moved on in the hopes that one day it will become true.
The worst part about this narrative is that like Eponine, I love him …but only on my own.
What does this say about me I wonder? Probably nothing good. But, before you judge I would remind you that love is not love only when it is returned. We are all capable of love, but only a few of us are lucky enough to be loved in return.
I am one of the unlucky ones.
Still, this part I have grown to accept. What I cannot understand is that why, when I’ve seen love fade so quickly, mine simply refuses to be put out.
I’m a romantic—but I am not naive enough to believe that if I just wait maybe someday he will love me back. He’s made it pretty clear that he does not, and in all likelihood, will not love me back.
Still, he remains the best part of me. My heart aches for him across the thousands of miles that separate us. I let him go because love is not something you should force, but my stubborn heart refuses to renounce him.
In my own quiet, unassuming way, I continue to love him. When I met him I was just a girl, and now that I am a woman reaching the end of my 26th year, I fear that, at least for me, there will be no one else.
~Ink Me In