Sometimes... Love...

I recently published a book of poetry, Love in Silhouette, about love. Problem is I'm not feeling very loving lately. Don't misunderstand me, I live my life from a place of love. I'm just feeling like I'm a little out of sync with the love in my life, but to quote Luther Vandross. "Sometimes love is wonderful, but sometimes it's only love." I suppose I'm in an "only love" state of mind lately.

Love is a journey we take as we travel through life. We find people who offer us love, and we choose whether or not to accept it. Sometimes we love when we it's against our own best interests. Sometimes we love when it hurts more than we can imagine. Sometimes we love against our will. Sometimes we love even when we can't express that love. Sometimes love lives in our hearts waiting for the right moment to be shared. Sometimes love tricks us into making decisions that seem right in the moment but haunt us later in life.

Also on the journey of love, we find love that is rewarding and uplifting. We find love that make us smile. We give love willingly and receive love that is open and real. We love because we deserve the best and the best is offered. We give love because we want the best for someone else. When two people give love from open hearts with honest intentions, love truly is wonderful even when it's only love.

Sometimes the journey of love brings us to a place where we love because we are so drawn to one another, there is no other choice. Sometimes we fight that love for as long as possible no matter how true we know it to be. Sometimes that's the right thing, but usually that's just fear interfering. Sometimes we give in to that love and find it's so hot even ice can't squelch its flame from consuming our hearts and souls.

Sometimes love gets lost in the mix. We think it's love when it's really just the next move on the chess board. We think it's love when it's really just need. We think it's love when it's really just security. We think it's love when it's really just what's familiar. We think it's love when it's really just settling for a substitute for the real thing. We think it's love because the true love we feel can't be expressed.

Sometimes love is only love. Sometimes it's wonderful. Sometimes it's nothing but a substitute that seems real. Sometimes we blind ourselves to reality to keep love. Sometimes we latch on to anything that resembles the love we think we really want. Sometimes we blind ourselves to the love that could be real because we fear it won't be returned.

Sometimes we forget that love changes. It grows. It morphs in to something unrecognizable. It grows stagnant from lack of nurturing. It can even die if not cherished and cultivated. It can revive after years of dormancy. It can be the most beautiful thing in the world and can lead to both our most exalted moments and our most painful ones.

Love is never a sure thing. The risk of love often seems too great, so we deny it, we walk away from it, we pretend it's anything other than love, we blind ourselves to the love that won't let go. And, then love bleeds out of us and reminds us who we are, what are dreams are, and what we denied ourselves.

Sometimes... Love...

For more thoughts on love, check out my book of poetry.


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