Tina Turner will tell you it’s a temporary emotion and for
some it is. Luther didn’t want it to make him a fool, though it has claimed
millions. Stevie said it’s in need of love and I couldn’t agree with him more,
but when I talk about love, I’m talking about all of this and more. Love casts
a wide net that catches so much that it’s difficult to decipher exactly what
folks are talking about when they talk about love.
What we define as love is tied far more into the feelings we
have, or jive public declarations, than actually loving someone. I hear people
all of the time claiming to love this one or that one, but they treat them like
they can’t stand them, but cry a river when that person decides their love is
too precious to be part of something so distressing. That’s what I see, so
that’s part of what I talk about when I talk about love.
You and I have both claimed to have been in love or hoped to
be loved, yet the people we were sat opposite of in those relationships
couldn’t hold our attention during a commercial break. So, the relationship
breaks down, but in stages, and we publicly live out each portion of the
fracturing. We argue in bars, broadcast our issues via Facebook, cheat with
best friends, have babies by strangers and jump the broom when we get all
twisted in our hearts and can’t figure a way to straighten ourselves out.
That’s what I’m talking about when I talk about love. I’m
saying, it can’t all be hugs and kisses and beautiful words; there are many
people that live with the pain of love, the guilt of hurt and smiles of shame,
but wish to wake in the middle of the night to see happiness resting
comfortably. Who speaks of love to them, for them? Where’s their voice without
bitterness, scorn, but with hope? I talk about love for those struggling to
love themselves but loving someone else, until the love, like the rainbow is
enough.
I talk about love like I’ve known it before, like I’ve cried
from the pain or lied about the shame. I speak about love like it was my enemy
and my friend simultaneously, equally occupying my heart and mind, but not part
of my life. I talk about love like I was waiting to be reunited with it, but
didn’t want it around. I talk about love like I don’t know that love don’t love
nobody…
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