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A story of love


Submitted:Jan 21, 2013    Reads: 38    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Love

I have stared at the word love at the head of my page for at least 40 minutes now. Thinking what does love mean to me and my life. I wouldn't be here on this earth if it weren't or love. Love is the meaning of my life and the reason I believe we are all here. One constant that has always reassured me with the power of love is family. The saying goes that you cannot chose your family, but I wouldn't have chosen any other one given the choice anyway. My family and my upbringing have been integral to my progression as a man. The thought of what my mother has sacrificed to provide for me when the world did its best to break my family is one of the few thoughts that have threatened tears to my eyes when writing this passage. The strength in my mother and the grip she has kept on my family makes me more than inspired. Sometimes something greater than life sends you a message of strength and that thing that's bigger than life is love. Love is doing something and not knowing why other than burning desires ignited buy your heart. We are all bearers of love but we make a choice each day to either harbour it or share it with others. The news has us believe that love has the influence to give a life and the authority to take a life but I believe there have been rare occasions where it has taken an act of cruelty so love can prevail. When I was a young boy I saw my father kill a squirrel that was dying on the side of the road. It broke my heart at the time but I now realise it was an unfortunate necessity to kill the animal and what I thought was an act of cruelty was an act of kindness. I believe that love entrusted my father to be its physical council. It needed my father because it has no limbs of means to call on and although it knew he had no malice in his heart, love guided his hands to set the wood life free. There are all types of love; I recant with great fondness my first romantic interest. She was the most inspiring thing my eyes had ever witnessed, she was scenery in motion, a view with a heartbeat and her voice was as relaxing as running water. Her eyes were like blue berries on a snow painted fern. I am not religious man but evolution cannot receive all the praise for a creation as flawless as her complexion. Her hair smelt like mountain breeze after rain and her lips glistened like an ice glazed reservoir. I liked to think that her architect ended with her eyes when he finished composing her because he knew they were incapable of fabrication and could give strength to a stranger with a moments glance. That he gave her a vision that could see past the shell of a person and into their core and made them the colour of shallow Caribbean waters and made the centre glow like candle light. When she smiles her whole face smiles and brings an angelic infection to anybody she encounters. Her face was a symphony of angels that light wouldn't dare blemish with routine; she deserves lights supreme effort and unbinding attention. I wanted from light the clarity it gave the stars and present it to her so it will focus its energy to illuminate her face to its intended purity. I still remember like yesterday our first kiss. It is an event in my life that I hope I remember forever. We were down the bay on the shore. I pulled her close and she put her soft tender hands on the back of my neck. The sea air was blowing in her hair as my skin accepted her touch like my lungs did the clean cool coast air. Her cheek felt like a bed sheet on a winter's night and her lips were wet and icy. A cocktail of elements I shouldn't of liked but I was engrossed buy the insatiable confusions of my emotions. I then run my hand up her supple sleek neck and nestled my fingers along her jaw line. I cupped her face as if it was a delicate decoration of heaven. Each second that passed brought new serge of adrenaline, my brains way of preparing my body for the imminent splendour of loves first kiss. I looked her in her big encapsulating eyes and told her that I knew I loved her from the first time I heard her laugh. Because nobody could invoke an ignition of passion in my soul with a sound and that be the only time I hear it, I need to hear it every day of my life. I didn't feel a need to rush, the distance from my lips to hers were a matter of inches but it felt like the longest journey of my life. Then our lips touched and her whole body seemed to cave in on itself. Later I would ask her what she felt and she said it was if she was voluntarily drowned in love. I extended the moments into memories that I could swim in but stay in my body all at once. I was fighting my hearts rhythms and thought if I could slow my heart beat time would follow suit but it was impossible. I couldn't deny my hearts desire to sing at yours. I believe it to be the calling chirp of my spirit and a mechanism of the magic of love. I would tell her after that it was like a sax note that engulfed me, Time was irrelevant and surrounding company and present circumstances rendered inconsequential. The only thing that mattered was plummeting into the moment and permitting it to wrap me in sublime peacefulness. When I kissed you I felt an intoxicant of my being twice as potent as pain and a hunger of my heart that begged me to seek nourishment in your sensual embrace. Friends of ours used to say we had the most outrages story of love. It only made me think we did something right. Once I tasted her lips and felt the conviction in her hearts endeavours to amplify her souls beacon to me I knew I was hooked. We would lose whole days together and often return to the spot where our feelings intensified. If circumstance would force us to be apart some nights I would call her and tell her although we don't share the same bed we share the blanket of warmth that the moon has cast over us. Have you ever missed a person that's been right there with you and felt a longing compulsion to consume all of someone? Felt like when the person you love is not around your stranded in the wilderness and have no map to return home. Then the notion of what you did before love strikes you, did you live in emotional poverty? Were you a flightless bird confounded to an existence short of hearts true purpose, to sore effortlessly in the skies of tranquillity? The truth is that you weren't living you were surviving oblivious to the marrow of your soul and its possibilities. Then the inevitable happened and the tension began, I don't know why I was shocked really because something that perfect and my personality couldn't ever coexist for too long. It was slow at first, little idiosyncrasy's that didn't bother me before started to grate on my nerves and test my patience to its brink. I felt like we were both changing and not for the better and this could be attributed to our lost connection of one another and the lives we inhabited before we met. We talked one day and she asked me how I felt, so I answered honestly. I feel like I had a boys view of love, I believed that if you had love you didn't need a single other emotion but I have come to realise you can be in the possession of love without being the proprietor of restraint. Love took residency of my body and dictated my every thought and action and you made that possible and I will always love you for that, but I'm just not happy. Love shouldn't feel like a choir but a cherished comfort. Looking back it was mostly my fault I was too immature to handle love and it was my loves degree that wasn't reciprocated that was our relationships downfall. After that she grabbed her things and left. I wanted to stop her I really did but I knew I didn't want to be the reason she didn't realise better. I can testament that love is not only blind it is completely void of reasoning. I am a person that loves with every morsel of my soul, anything less doesn't deserve to bear the name of love. Without love ever small or great feet with her might have been one step too far. I am thankful that I have received a gift of love so extravagant it renders me impervious to regret. I have escaped the negativity of the past with the safe in the knowledge that I have once been astounded buy love. I often wonder if we will see each other again or will a fates rendezvous escape us? Where ever she is I hope she is happy and somewhat thankful for our time together. She once told me that I was lazy in love and grew complacent with it and her. She was right, all I ever wanted to be was a writer but I let the past's strong hold asphyxiate my dreams for too long. There is no such thing as laziness, only a lack of inspiration that makes us sceptical of the day's worth. If you know before you wake up that you're not going to be challenged nor have your senses stimulated then you are already on a path to self deprecation. The only way to attack your day is to realise that people only have a say in what you don't do and seldom have a say in what you do. I challenge you to be an emerging light in the dubious spectrum of society. She left me that quote one birthday and I vowed that was the day Id make my dreams a reality and become a writer. There are some who say love is a chemical reaction caused by our brains but I think it's a need to escape ourselves but most of all I think the accolade of love can only truly be awarded to hope, hope that there's a bit of ourselves in others. I ration my love now, a precaution of a man that felt loves wrath but what better to write about than love. It lives in everything we do and is a part of everything we are. It's in are expressions of ourselves and in our explorations of others. We as humans want to have a love received and show the love that we have to offer. We all want to live in love and if I had a chance to do it all again, I would. It made me see the beauty in what I do and you must see the beauty in what you do.





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