What does love looks like?
The therapist asks one week after the breakup
and I’m not sure how to answer that question
except for the fact that I thought love looked so much like you
That’s when it hit me
and I realized how naive I had been
to place an idea so beautiful on the image of a person
as if anybody on this entire earth could encompass all love represented
as if this emotion seven billion people tremble for would look like a five foot eleven medium-sized brown-skinned guy
who likes eating frozen pizza for breakfast
What does love looks like?
The therapist asks again
This time interrupting my thoughts mid sentence and at this point I’m about to get up and walk right out the door
except I paid far too much money for this hour
so instead I take a piercing look at her
the way you look at someone when you’re about to hand it to them
Lips pursed tightly preparing to launch into conversation
Eyes digging deeply into theirs
searching for all the weak spots they have hidden somewhere
Hair being tucked behind the ears
as if you have to physically prepare for a conversation on the philosophies or rather disappointments of what love looks like
Well
I tell her
I don’t think love is him anymore
If love was him
he would be here, wouldn’t he?
If he was the one for me
Wouldn’t he be the one sitting across from me?
If love was him, it would have been simple
I don’t think love is him anymore I repeat
I think love never was
I think I just wanted something
was ready to give myself to something I believed was bigger than myself
and when I saw someone who could probably fit the part
I made it very much my intention to make him my counterpart
And I lost myself to him
he took and he took
wrapped me in the word special
until I was so convinced he had eyes only to see me
hands only to feel me
a body only to be with me
Oh, how he emptied me
How does that make you feel?
Interrupts the therapist
Well I said
It kind of makes me feel like shit
Maybe we’re all looking at it wrong
We think it’s something to search for out there
something meant to crash into us
on our way out of an elevator
or slip into our chair at the cafe somewhere
appear at the end of an aisle at the bookstore
looking the right amount of sexy and intellectual
But I think love starts here
everything else else is just desire and projection
of all our wants needs and fantasies
But those externalities could never work out
if we didn’t turn inward and learn
How to love ourselves in order to love other people
Love does not look like a person
Love is our actions
Love is giving all we can
even if it’s just the bigger slice of cake
Love is understanding
We have the power to hurt one another
but we are going to do everything in our power
to make sure we don’t
love is figuring out all the kind sweetness we deserve
and when someone shows up
saying they will provide it as you do
But their actions seem to break you
rather than build you
Love is knowing whom to choose
.:A Narrator:. 