Love Holds More Pain than Happiness
It is on common, yet not so common ground, that I am bound to ponder the curiosity of intent that allows love to occur. I used to not believe it was real. In my present state I find my heart in shatters trailed with the pleasant and painful impressions of a love lasting, yet lost.
My family is very loving but growing up the chemistry between a man and a woman seemed to be more like settling. Needless to say there were many commitment issues and divorces to be had or forgotten. Love to me never meant any of those poetic heartfelt things you read in romantic novels or cards. It was the word used when a man and a woman have some commonalities and can stand each other, so they then agree to be a couple and/or get married.
I was accompanying one of my dear friends as she went on her first date. She informed me that he did not drive so his friend volunteered to be their driver. Before I knew it, this turned into a double date. From that first day the connection was strong. We were as inseparable as our souls that intertwined with loyalty and passion. The first half of the relationship was incredible, and then those damn skeletons had to fall from the unnerving closet.
He began to change. With his personality went his friends and before I knew it I was dating several men in one. The more he changed the more we fell apart. The love and our souls were there in spirit, yet I could do nothing to help him. He seemed as if in a state of possession. More pain, more arguments, more tears. I love him. He loves me. He felt he needed to find himself, so he left on a trip that he claimed he’ll be on for six months. One month later he returns with a slit wrist and a tale about his indiscretions. More pain, more blood, more tears. Then suddenly we let go. There is no longer a we, but a me and him.
What I’ve endured I couldn’t even begin to tell you. Why I struggled through it, well that’s what I found love to be about. Love is not just full of passion, loyalty, respect, chemistry, caring, and heartfelt sentiments. Love is trials and tribulation, it is what drives you face anything good/bad, it is what your soul desires, what forces you to feel pleasure and security within its bounds of torment. Although I, as much as he, suffered embarking upon this rare chance of love I would not change this part of my life for anything. Though he is out of my life I am still in love. I pray to find this torment again.
If you enjoyed this essay, please consider making a tax-deductible contribution to This I Believe, Inc.