Love has been an overused topic if I may say. It has been the central theme of numerous narratives, poems, visual art pieces, and music. It is practically the strongest force on earth (tight competition with money) that could bring about every emotion possible. It can drive people to work hard towards their biggest potential, to better themselves and the lives if those they care about. On the other hand, it can bring people to their edges; will make then do anything to prove or obtain love, even hurting others. It can be as innoncent as the touch of a baby’s hand to his mother’s face, and it can burn two people with so much passion. It knows no boundaries, sees through and beyond any obstacle, and ignores the impossible. Yet, it does not have an official definition, no official framework, no single concept that could encompass all of its existence. And since fate has recently been kind to me, I believe I now have glimpse of the other possible things love could be. (My partner would be smiling to read “fate” in this 😎). So here it goes…
It’s a cliché. Almost every art form had tried to define it, to give it face, to describe what it truly is; but they can only try so much. Even the academics tried to put it in a framework, to a personality trait, or trace its history from books, but just like the others, they can only try so much.
It is like an unspoken life’s contract. The moment we are born into this world, we are automatically actors of a play that we know nothing about. Not the plot, not the setting, not the co-actors. But because slutty fate had decided that we take part, we take part. We learn our scripts, and take directions: those that are ours, and those that come from others. Sometimes we strictly follow the script, we memorize the lines, we act according to what is written, we act like it’s daytime even if we’re blinded with darkness. Or we play the mysterious games in the nighttime even if the sun is burning our faces. And so we struggle, we try the hardest, or sometimes we do not give the slightest care because it is not the battle that we chose. But we have been trapped already and there is no other option but to move forward, to bask in it, to learn to cherish it. We continue to play the part, forget our lines, our cues, make our way through the darkness, or squint through the sun’s hurting rays. Nonetheless, we don’t stop. And then one day, we’d just ear the director say, “Cut! Good take!”
It is our search for “the one” either by jumping from one bed to another or by staying under the trees to wait for them. It could be holding a stranger’s hand and realising that your hands are like separate puzzle pieces, finally finding its right place once they find each other. It’s like being a dried leaf caught in a whirlwind, light, fragile, lifeless, just letting the force bring you to where ever it wants and you don’t care. Or… You do care, but you do not have the slightest energy to fight against it. So you just float, hit one wall after the other. And all of a sudden it stops. Everything suddenly becomes still, calm, serene. And you find yourself in the arms of a loving, protecting embrace, accepting you and your crumpled, weak, and almost useless parts… taking you in its hands, like you are the most precious thing in the world that it would be afraid to break. It is looking into your eyes like it contains the answer to most mundane and complex questions in the world, delving deep into your mind, your body, your soul.
It can make you discover that you are enough, no, not enough, more than enough. You are more. And the way it treat you reminds you of this every day, that you are capable of loving and being loved. Your existence is beyond floating, beyond being a nuisance in an already chaotic world. They accept you, the wholeness of you, scars and all, making you realize what grand plan the universe has for you, making all of the tossing and turning and empty nights and quiet days meaningful, making it the most important preparation you could participate in, and the most precious journey you would have embarked on.
It is a quest, a journey, a treasure hunt, a rummaging through an old house, or running through abandoned road. Your eyes see nothing but rubbish and oblivion but your heart believes otherwise. So you continue to search, you put one foot in front of the other and you make your way. You can get caught in twisted vines, your feet might step on a poisonous plant, or you might lose your belongings along the way. But you continue despite these. Just when you thought it is time to give up, you suddenly remember, you have a map, the compass inside you. And you realize, it has always been inside of you. The will to continue with the journey now becomes your lamp, your belief in happy endings will be the staff to support you through rough patches. And you realize, there is treasure in the unexpected.
It is a touch… caring, protecting, lustful, warm, loving. It is the arms holding you through the night, spooning you and keeping you safe and warm as if nothing could go wrong… that even if the world ended tomorrow, you will still be safe. But these would be the same arms that lock you up while it drowns you in passion, in lust. The hands that will touch you in places you’ve never imagined, every crevice, every corner of your body, you soul, your world. The same hands that will steady you while the lips of the owner drive you crazy and fill you up with sensation that is both worldly and profound. And at the end of the day, it will be the same hands that you hold just because, the same hands that you kiss, that you will miss and always long to hold. The hands that will remind you that you are not alone anymore, the hands that will always let you know everything will be okay.
It is a refuge. It is a safe place at the end of an battle-worn day… quiet and calm. The place where you know nothing can hurt you and you can finally take rest. The place that you run to when the world does not seem to make any sense; and when no one seems to hear your voice, it serves as an echo so the wind can hear you, sending the contents of your heart out into the world – helping you let go of the weight inside, making you free. A place where you can reveal your worst dreams and ugliest past, yet still be accepted and never judged.
We’re all looking for something. We’re all looking for “that something”. The “umph”, the punctuation mark, the “zing!”, the highlight, the underline. The thing that will answer all the questions, that pin on the GPS that locates or the X that marks the spot, the time when all of the contents of our past would commence in front of us and form into what it is supposed to be, and we’ll give the sigh of relief, our clouded visions would start to clear, heartbeat starts to have a better rhythm, , finally we’re home.
Mon Amour, I know you know where all these is coming from and I have you to thank for it. As cliche as it may sound, but you brought along the definition of love. I have the faintest understanding of it until I met you. Distance is a bummer for us at the moment, but how our story started, I would not have it any other way. You inspire me to work hard to better myself and my future because at the back if my mind, I understand that it is also working towards our future together. Thank you for bringing me beautiful, I love you.