True Love

When all is finally said and done, a true love would want to hear of deceptions and wrongs done, knowing a lover was taking pleasure rather than a terrified liar showing up in distress taking measures designed to avoid telling the truth. 

Lies, creatively constructed, are each simple, small masterpieces, devices of considerate deception. And Lies are such delicate things, aren’t they? Fragile but precise, each one a tiny work of art, stitched with trembling fingers by a heart full of fear. 

True love prefers to see brave, raw transgressions, still warm with at least some perfect bliss, breathing with joy and consummate elegance.  True love would wish for delight before the dread of lying.

That’s how much a true love loves.

Strange, isn't it? That true love would wish for honest and fulfilled, not meticulous lies just to avoid pain. But perhaps this is what separates love from mere affection - this terrible hunger for authenticity, even as it mutilates and maims.

Lying is heavy. It lingers in the air, growing colder and quieter the longer it is ignored. Lying is so much more painful than cheating, and both reasons for true love to fly away, liberated. Lies make forked paths and create crossroads. True love walks straighter on a side of painful truths, not one paved with beautiful lies. True true loves for self and other demands no less than the confidence to face what is fresh, flawed, and real. 

 True love is brave, silent (eventually) and alive with courage. 

And then, true love always knows the quiet, how well silence speaks louder than words. And in the quiet, there is a stillness, a certainty. True love can feel the truth like the air of shifting of seasons; fall into winter, spring into summer. Each hush of silence reveals change, new knowledge of distance, onward movement. If lips stay sealed, they tell true love everything it needs to know. And that, true love supposes, is the clarity it needs.

It’s a strange kind of heartbreak, isn’t it? To experience how silence carries its own graceless truth, loud, sour and biting. True love wishes against it; True love wishes it was wrong; But all silences taste and sound the same, proof of a truth too afraid to be spoken. Proof that love has already left, in spirit if not in body. Spiritlessness in motion.

For the other to remain silent brings even more clarity and more certainty. Silence shows up as moving on, newly ignorant of true love’s power; Silence means true love will need to find the confidence and the courage to move on in the same ways. True love so much wishes it was wrong to think these awful thoughts. But then, the silence is deafening. 

Once the silence stops howling it will remind true love of how ignorance is bliss and that the most devastating silence takes with it the most magnificent kiss (That kiss, it Begins- a look of shimmering diamonds when it's about to happen; hearts racing; butterflies as if it's the first time all over again; the touch of true loves lips; Bodies fall as if drifting through stars.), so perfect and powerful.

Then one day, True love recovers and remembers the grandest of all truths- Behind the thin veil of feared forbidden moments lies ignorance. Hidden there is a peculiar kind of shimmering, an ideal false joy uttered in three simple words, such perfect bliss; a blissful ignorant archetype doomed the moment the truth is brave enough to breathe.

True love remembers pure joy and how great love comes with great responsibility. It was not ideal, but it was perfect. It was never ignorance or bliss.

BREATHE