dancedanceddance

[dancedanceddance]

He asked me to tell him about love. What does it look like? Feel like? I looked over startled, perplexed why any one would want to know my musings on love. I shrugged, paused and in a rushed, fluid breath, “I used to think I knew love. What it looked like. What it felt like. But the more moves I make, the more I change, the more I realize that love is elusive. I dont know what It means or where to find it. I find myself getting further away from it everyday that I choose to love myself.So maybe I do know what love is. what it means to love myself. Loving yourself is being able to stand firm in your vision. Its moving forward when your thoughts and actions make others sigh with the knowledge of your obvious inability to stay in line. self-love is trust. Trust that you are more. Trust that you are deeper and more vast than they have the faith to believe. 

What escapes me is how to be loved. and whether or not i have ever experienced real unconditional love. or is all love conditional? Is it possible that I am living in a delusion where anyone, everyone can receive unconditional love. Or am I just as alone as I imagine, watching others draped in layers of unconditional, forgiving love, while I am swallowed whole by the memories of those who decided that I was not enough. Just barely making my way to the surface with this bs concept of self-love. I stop with a quick breath. Turn because this place is not an appropriate home for these thoughts. This brusque honesty. He looks slightly pained and I know that once again, I have crossed the line. Making my loneliness visible. How dare I exist in a way that isnt easy to swallow. How dare I remain visible when I was supposed to disappear.