I feel like somehow my life is on consistent repeat. We all imagine that as we grow up we change, and we leave behind a million versions of ourselves. We believe that when we change we are this totally new person, that we have somehow adopted new ways of life… but yet I always seem to find my way back here. I feel like I have a pattern, a pattern that I wish I could break, but one that I know will somehow continue on forever. Every couple months I end up back here, back to my writing, and inevitably back to reading quotes in order to feel better about my life. I want to feel like someone out there knows how I’m feeling. But the problem seems to be that I cannot for the life of me figure out how I am feeling in the first place. My intention was to find a quote to summarize my view of life. I wanted something poetic, something groundbreaking. Needless to say, I did not find that. I think the only way I ever would is if they tumbled out of these misguided fingers without purpose or pause. Anyway I found myself drawn to the quotes about love. And a general theme that I was not expecting to notice was the theme of acceptance. Love is when a boy listens to everything you say, and accepts you for your flaws. Love is when a boy sees through the disguises, and chooses to stay. I’ve had mixed thoughts about my current love situation for a while. I thought that I was going through some stupid time in my life where I just cannot handle to be held down, or expected to do certain things. I thought that this whole thing was my fault. I was confused about my past “love” for another. I was confused about my motives and my intentions when I left home each night without him. Was I going because I needed my own life, or was I going because I just didn’t want to be with him? The real problem was not apparent. I have all of these ideas about love. I have this picture of what love should be in my head, just as I’m sure everyone else does. Something that has been molded by Disney movies, and Dawson’s Creek, and romantic movies. Love should be epic. Love should be earth-shattering. Love should stop time. Love should consume you. And this love is not that, for one reason. He cannot accept me. I’m a girl that has made my fair share of mistakes. I’ve loved the wrong man, stayed in destructive relationships for far too long, and let my heart lead me to places that I knew I never wanted to be. I’ve had meaningless sex. I’ve had secret trysts and reveled in the danger of getting caught. I’ve broken hearts, and other’s trust in me. The list goes on and on. I know I’m not perfect, but I also know that to regret those decisions goes against everything I stand for. I want to be genuine, authentic. I’m going to be me and I’m going to make the wrong decisions sometimes, and I might even be aware of that fact as I’m making it. But I will not regret a single thing, because that’s who I wanted to be in those moments, somehow whatever those things were, were important to me. It’d be ridiculous to deny it. So I’ll wear my mistakes like badges, and find honor in the display. Because I’m okay. But when I come home I feel as if he wishes I was someone else, someone better. He regrets the things I do. And it is because of this that I wonder if he really loves me, or if he simply wants to, but cannot. It’s not a problem of him loving another, or me loving another, it’s about him not really loving me. I don’t have those earth-shattering moments with him, he does not stop time. He makes time better, and I love the way it feels to be in his arms. But he makes me want to hate myself sometimes. He makes me question my motives, question my intentions, when normally I would not. Normally I wouldn’t have to. So what do you do when you cannot love someone, or that love has somehow faded, because his love was never genuine to begin with? I need someone I can share my secrets with, someone that’s just going to listen and laugh at me, and tell me that none of that matters. Because why should it? I wish he could just give me that.
But he cannot, or maybe will not, the string that unravels the tapestry that we call “us”. And all I can do is watch as I dive in deeper because I feel like I can save it. I can make him see, but somehow deep down I know that he doesn’t want to. He wants me to be something more than I am, something different, but I cannot be anyone but this. And so here I am left to revel in yet another destruction, wondering if the next guy will fault me for this too.
Unraveling us, to uncover me and you,
JL
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