Archive for the ‘Love’ Category

THE SECRET

Posted: February 2, 2012 in Love
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“Do you miss me?” I could hear the accusation resonating in my tone. She paused, perhaps aware that I needed her far more than she would ever need me. It wasn’t love, far from it. It was an insidious form of lust. I wanted to possess her, to own her beauty. But it was a game, merely an ill fated distraction, because as soon as she wavered, as soon as she let me in the door, I would lose interest. It was all about the chase, the mystery of not knowing whether I’d captivate her imagination.

I’m ridiculously shallow and callous when it comes to matters of the heart. I sometimes get the impression that I’ve forgotten how to truly feel. But I know that’s a lie I tell myself. I’ve been masking my emotions since I was a child. Paying for the sins of those who were meant to love me the most. I’m afraid to remove my mask. It’s a truth that floats to the surface, when I’m alone, and I’ve let my guard down. But I suppress it, tie it to the anchor of denial, and watch it slip beneath the murky waters of my mind. I don’t like to dwell. Reflection leads to recrimination.

I still love the saltiness of the first kiss. The breathless anticipation, the staccato heartbeats, the way the tongues and desire interweave. I haven’t grown immune to its’ magic. For a brief moment I can taste happiness. I can feel the spark like a fireworks show that blazes across a pitch black sky. It burns bright but dies young. The memory however lingers on even if the intensity of the colours fades over time.

No two kisses are ever alike. Some are like a dance, exotic and enticing, others are dramatic, urgent, and feverish, then on rare occasions you experience the smouldering, soulful kiss that settles on your lips with the delicacy of a butterfly and for that moment nothing else matters. Nothing else however eventually intrudes even on the best of intentions.

I think when we kiss someone it expresses a facet of who we are. Our personalities are communicated through our lips. Playful, reserved, deep, shy or inquisitive. It speaks a silent language. Often revealing more than we ever intended. Sometimes it’s desperation, sometimes it smells like wine, sometimes it’s adultery, sometimes it’s unexpected, sometimes it’s longing, and every so often it’s love.

I love the concept of being in love. It conjures up images of lazy days in bed, holding hands, giggling at private jokes that no one else gets, and staring deeply into each others eyes as if you’re the only two people in the world. I wonder if I’ve ever come close. Surely that’s an answer that should be on the tip of my tongue. But I’m hesitant to give an unequivocal answer. The truth is I’m not entirely sure. Have I spurned my chances, did I turn a blind eye when opportunity walked by, or am I merely damaged, incapable of committing myself fully to someone else. I think I may have used merely out of context there.

I suppose I’m not the easiest person to love. I’m flawed, perhaps not on the surface, but still waters run deep. I can’t say I’m more deserving of love than someone else. I’ve done things in my past of which I’m ashamed. Sadly I haven’t always learnt my lesson but I’m trying. I’ve experienced events in my past that trouble me to this day. I would like to say I’ve learnt the art of forgiveness but sometimes I catch the demons whispering in my ear. The reality is you can’t runaway from your past, you have to find a way to learn to live with it.

The secret is I’ll only be ready for love once I’ve learnt to love myself.

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