Looking Back

In the end, when all is said and done, and I glance back over my life – I hope to have loved-well. I hope to have been loved; truly, deeply, madly. But more so, I hope that when I finally opened my heart to another, I did so beautifully, freely and with no regrets. And when I did, I filled crevices within their heart for which they never knew they had.

As generation after generation finds themselves single, it becomes apparent that loving-well is a lost art. I can’t say I’m masterful at it, but I can say I am purposeful and sincere. Never once have I cast my net so wide that my love was thin and without meaning. My circle is kept small – intentionally.

Love with ill intent or even just careless, can be life changing. There is the damage we have all endured, caused by the selfishness of others. And then there is the damage brought about by our own hand. The repercussions of both are staggering. But often those that have carelessly damaged, damage only those that so often pull back before damaging others. They move through life with one single aim; with a target that serves their own needs. I have no idea how to move through people toward my own gain. I once was both the target and standing in the arrow’s path.

Due to all of this damage, loving with pureness and beauty seems, more often than not, a thing of the past. With words that hold meaning and value, lovers used to find nourishment in the arms of another. Now there is need. Often, there is greed. I spent a decade with someone where need and greed were the invisible meaning behind his words of love. Nothing was sacred. It is unbelievably difficult to love, once someone has marred that which was supposed to be beautiful. Once defaced, it is near impossible to believe that it can ever be beautiful again.

I’d like to say I love easily. Loving easily sounds like actions of an enlightened soul. I haven’t advanced that far. But I do know that when I look back, there will be no one left stumbling to recover from my selfish aim. I hope those that are not still with me in the end, will be, at the very least, enriched from our time together. That, is the gain with which I hope to provide those that have been loved by me. Doing so, makes love beautiful.

Sane

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