the heart hurts
I am never more present in my life than when I am in love. It's as if the tendrils of truth that make up my person unfurl one by one as I meet and fall for someone new. Lately, however, I have begun to question these most cherished moments of falling. I've started to tell myself that they were not the real deal, that I will know it when I see it but I couldn't possibly be where I am today, more or less alone, if they were in fact real...for what type of person would have let them go? I dwell on this more than I should.
Still, while romantic love continues to befuddle me in its complex application in my life (I swear, this blog hasn't even scratched the surface of the crazy that is me and men), I will say I am learning more about love amongst friends and family these days than I'm sure I ever have. Perhaps learning is too strong of a word - that would imply I've come to an understanding about it all. An understanding beyond the necessity for constant grace, openness, honesty and from time to time complete and utter humility in order to truly love, and be loved by, those around you. I would like to say that I work on this daily, but I'm not sure I'm at a place with myself where I can truly offer this to those I love. I do know I try. I try so hard when confronted with someone else's pain or struggle. The compassion switch in me electrifies and I pull out each and every experience and understanding I can provide in the desperate hopes of alleviating the heartache. If I could paint a picture, it would show me literally taking a scoop out of my heart and presenting it, palms open, to whoever it is that I love so dearly allowing me to bear witness to their brokenness.
But can I ever really bear witness when I am so very bad at showing my own brokenness? I can remember only a handful of times when I allowed myself to truly wilt in the trust of someone who loves me, pushing aside my assumption of their judgment or pity long enough to bask in their compassion and grace. It is a fine line to let those whose opinions mean the most to you catch you when crumble. But I know now that this is the essence of love. And I would never hold it against someone I love that they from time to time fall apart - it makes them more human and radiant and dear, if anything.
I don't know how this ties in to the beginning of this post. Perhaps my detachment from romantic love stems from my need to more fully understand the fundamentals of love as a whole. Thank God for the gracious beings sharing their stories around me as I take a temporary hiatus from my own heart. I'll get back to it someday, I'm sure.
Still, while romantic love continues to befuddle me in its complex application in my life (I swear, this blog hasn't even scratched the surface of the crazy that is me and men), I will say I am learning more about love amongst friends and family these days than I'm sure I ever have. Perhaps learning is too strong of a word - that would imply I've come to an understanding about it all. An understanding beyond the necessity for constant grace, openness, honesty and from time to time complete and utter humility in order to truly love, and be loved by, those around you. I would like to say that I work on this daily, but I'm not sure I'm at a place with myself where I can truly offer this to those I love. I do know I try. I try so hard when confronted with someone else's pain or struggle. The compassion switch in me electrifies and I pull out each and every experience and understanding I can provide in the desperate hopes of alleviating the heartache. If I could paint a picture, it would show me literally taking a scoop out of my heart and presenting it, palms open, to whoever it is that I love so dearly allowing me to bear witness to their brokenness.
But can I ever really bear witness when I am so very bad at showing my own brokenness? I can remember only a handful of times when I allowed myself to truly wilt in the trust of someone who loves me, pushing aside my assumption of their judgment or pity long enough to bask in their compassion and grace. It is a fine line to let those whose opinions mean the most to you catch you when crumble. But I know now that this is the essence of love. And I would never hold it against someone I love that they from time to time fall apart - it makes them more human and radiant and dear, if anything.
I don't know how this ties in to the beginning of this post. Perhaps my detachment from romantic love stems from my need to more fully understand the fundamentals of love as a whole. Thank God for the gracious beings sharing their stories around me as I take a temporary hiatus from my own heart. I'll get back to it someday, I'm sure.
Labels: friendship, heartache - the real kind
posted by Mood Indigo at 12:11 AM
2 Comments:
This was lovely, Megan. I don't think anyone is more present in their lives than when in love, honestly. I'm sorry you're hurting. Big hugs to you, and I'm always around if you need someone.
It's so true that falling for someone makes you aware of everything but, even though those moments fade, you had that awareness and that is better than not having it.
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