"The one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person." Such non-fiction from a fictional character.
In my real life, I've loved someone who wasn't ready to love me. I've been loved by someone who I didn't think deserved my love. I have loved someone who I didn't deserve to be loved by.
I've loved different people; different people have loved me. I've loved the same person, after we've both become different people.
A few days ago, I finally had the epiphany... that I need to let go. I was holding onto the idea that I'd already ruined my relationship with the one person who understood me and accepted me and loved me for what I really am, despite all of my faults and the wrongs I've done. The truth is I'm scared that I'll never find anyone who could love me that way again. But instead of clinging to the romanticized reflection of myself in his eyes, I should be learning how to become someone that I love, so that someone else can love me too.
When I was lying in bed tonight, I remembered something: Love... is just love. I have it. I feel it. This is normal, and it's important to feel love. I almost can't believe how much I've exhausted myself, worrying that who I love isn't who loves me (and vice versa). Of course, if it was so easy for people to just be in love together at the same time, then everyone would just be in love, and it wouldn't be the fun and magical thing that it is.
I've always known that I don't need to worry about love. It falls into place. It falls out of place. It's all over the place. But it'll happen, when it happens, with whom it happens. And then? Daisy St. Patience's "never, ever" will just be a couple more silly words in my silly blog.
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