Love, that is. For 21 years and about 7 months I believed that this was false. I believed that I had loved; I thought I loved X even though she didn’t return the sentiment and even when I got with Y I wasn’t sure what I had. Y was great company and kept me content, and for these reasons I reciprocated the affection. But I always wondered just how much of what I did was duty/reciprocation and how much was of my own accord? It was probably a tie.
However, come May 2010 and the incident, I realized just how important she is to me. It’s all the cliches you’ve ever heard – the feeling of emptyness and of being incomplete, wanting to give her the world, always thinking about her, etc. Everyday I come back home wishing she were there waiting for me. It’s not about sex, it’s her laugh, her smile, her smell, her company, and all of her quirks. When she left Galveston after visiting, the heartache was incredible. I realize now that she is the passion in my life that I have always been looking for; not music, not running, not videogames, not money, not success. It’s her. I love her.
January 22, 2011 at 7:41 am
Stumbled upon your blog lolol. Wow this is beautifully written, very profound. Good stuff. Hope you’re doing well.