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Stay True to Yourself: What Is Real Love?
Stay True to Yourself: What Is Real Love?
I think I have a chance at real love. I’ve felt close to it at times. I’ve been in the right proximity poking around like a blind pig looking for dirtier mud. I’ve already played the part. I’ve been young and naive and know this type of infatuating love can leave you as fast as you find it — mostly because you don’t know how to cultivate what’s good for you.
Yet.
They say “Fools rush in,” and feeling foolish may be a small price to pay for love. But I’m not rushing in this time. Now I’m going slow. I don’t care for the bloody mess caused by a foolish love’s broken shards — the cutting memories of silky skin, bulbous blinking eyes, the taste of cotton candy lips, or better, the addictive feeling of someone wanting you back as much as you want them.
Physical yearning doesn’t make real love. The kind of love I want goes deeper than the surface. It sees you. It gives you a certain freedom.
It tries to understand you completely even when it’s hard.
It doesn’t run from your truth or judge you for it.
It accepts your flaws just as much as your superhero strengths.
It’s not codependent on each other for happiness.
