The last few days have been the most welcomed and also confusing. Toes in sand, drink in hand. Extending framily, … indefinitely. No, that’s not it. As I sit here in the airport, headed back “home”, with tears brimming my eyes and my words failing me, I can’t place my finger on the how/why I had been wounded.
Then this played through my headphones:
“I thought that I didn’t care, I thought I was love impaired, but baby, I don’t know what Im gon’ do….. I’m crying Cuz I Love You”
Well, damn. There it is.
A change is gonna come; it has to.
I am drained.
I have a wild heart. It loves fiercely. My heart is always in search for the wounded. I don’t come to prey upon them. I understand their pain. I take the wounded in and give them safe space. When the wounded are met where they are and loved unconditionally exactly as they are, they become more resilient and the truest version of themselves.
For reasons that have eluded me until today, they don’t stay. Once my wounded are bound, they gain confidence and before I know it, they’re on their way. That’s the double-edged sword for people who love unconditionally. Unconditional lovers feel great contentment when someone they were able to guide, or restore in some way, contributes to humanity. After all, what greater cause is there? We stay rooting on the sidelines and also; we often go home alone, never having had an expectation of anything resembling appreciation. There is no debt for services rendered. Then, without further obligation the transaction is closed.
Today it occurred to me that not everyone appreciates the power of love. I want to believe the misunderstanding and fear has to do with their past alleged experiences with “love” and not some deeply imbedded fuckedupedness on my part. I think back on my own experiences and understand, but I will not digress. I will not hide. I will not refuse to love when someone loves me because someone else did it different, or not at all, in the past. I will not cease to plan and do, because of prior trials erred. I won’t cower. I won’t run when it looks like love. I won’t bow. I’ll be here in the arena with my hands in the air ready to fight for love. I’d like a partner in love and life, fighting in the name of love WITH ME, but I don’t need anyone to fight battles FOR ME. If a faithful warrior does not manifest, I know I’m scrappy enough to stand on my own.
Still, just once, I’d like to see it. I’d like to see a wounded warrior rise up and take my side.
I’d like to have an endless supply of unconditional love to spread healing to as many wounded as humanly possibly. Everybody hurts, however, suffering is a choice. There is no need for humanity to suffer in dire straits for love. There is enough to go around. I have to believe that, for us anyway…if you’d let us love.