Monday, February 14, 2011

Love.




Today is a day of the heart and I'm asking mine to speak...

My nails are polished blood red and their simple beauty has got me boldly admitting: I have yet to love or be loved outside of the platonic and familial bounds.

For years my naive and stubborn resolve held me suspended in an unaware cyclical jog. My subconscious fear of starting over and doing it all again correctly threatened my delicate pride; resulting in an over exerted clench on youthful trifles.

So I find that my struggles, my nightmares and my exacerbated sensitivity to contrived comments is much more than that dreadful 20 minutes of time-stopping hell.

Because in that moment, all the years I'd spent unknowingly fighting circumstance were instantly called into question. and the years of misguided attempts at validation could no longer hide in my mental archives; my emotional/spiritual 'self' commandeered my otherwise domineering rational/intellectual 'self'... and the fierce-some beliefs I'd facaded in my head quivered and hid.

It has dawned on me: the culmination of my upbringing, that peak of unsolicited horror, and my consequent personal plummet are but alchemy on a weighted scale that only tips one way.

Tonight I'm going to watch this spectacular version of the greatest love story I know. I will watch it alone and it will be insight enough into love for my admittedly young and timid heart.

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