|| Noun ||
I once dated a boy who littered the stars across the earth for me. He said, “You want the moon? I’ll pull it down for you!” We sat through nights that stretched into daylight and we left no stone untouched, we defied gravity because we flew. How we flew.
I once dated a boy who ran around in circles; around and around he went but never straight to me. There were ‘goodnights’ and ‘good mornings’ and ‘goodbyes’. Never was there any three letter words to announce for time never seemed right and life consumed us in it’s waves of more important things to attend to. But I knew. My world was black and white and sturdy and steady because he was my gravity.
I once dated a boy who took and took but never returned the love I gave to him. I was falling and tripping and burning up in my attempts to chase him, still he never looked back. A relationship never felt as exhausting as it was then, but I thought it was normal. I loved him so, more so than the moon and the stars and the blacks and the whites.
Then I realised we deserve the love we give. A relationship isn’t meant to be taxing. It’s meant to be comfortable, reassuring, a safety net. We are not the boys and girls we date. We are not the shiny, inconstant moons we claim for ourselves; not the sturdy brown they painted our walls with; not the marathons we ran then came in last. Why let them drag our hearts through the mud before picking them up and dusting them off as though nothing happened?
We are more than that. Be selfish. The only relationship you will ever need is with yourself.
I would have waited eons for you, but I’ve never felt as exhausted loving you than I ever did loving others. This waiting must have been a continuance of my previous lifetimes, for I swear it felt that long. Today I’m officially discontinuing this fruitless wait.
“ True love, like any other strong and addicting drug, is boring—once the tale of encounter and discovery is told, kisses quickly grow stale and caresses tiresome…except, of course, to those who share the kisses, who give and take the caresses while every sound and color of the world seems to deepen and brighten around them. As with any other strong drug, true first love is really only interesting to those who have become its prisoners. And, as is true of any other strong and addicting drug, true first love is dangerous. ” – Wizard and Glass, Stephen King