Sounds like a good start to the chorus of a Tesla song, yes?
Good day wherever you are. Hopefully today finds you minus any physical or emotional pain. So let’s get to the heart of the matter shall we?
Love is pain. Love is hard. Love is grand. Love is exaltation. Love is that magical duct tape that fixes so many broken things in the world. Love fixed me…after love had broken me. I believe in love because I am a sap. A huge silly-stupid sap. I’ve been this way literally for decades and I do not see that changing any time soon.
Love is not embodied in a mass produced store-bought card but I understand the sentiment and those are nice but just nice. Love is not an equal division of the household bills. Love is not always doing the correct thing at the right time. As I have conveyed awhile ago, I tend to see things differently and in turn act differently based on how I was raised which consisted of much time by myself to figure things out.
A cool thing about love is unpredictability. When the person you love unexpectedly embraces you fiercely for no apparent reason or gives you that sassy little smile that they only save for you – those moments make my stomach drop and my heart feel like an over-inflated balloon. Thinking about the person you love and you can’t help but smile or drift into a bit of a daydream. Spending time with them, no matter the activity, is the goal and something you crave like an addict when you are unable to do so. Their imperfections become perfection and all social conventions fly out the window. You don’t care what they do for a living or what they drive or about that one shirt that really needs to be retired even though they wear it to death – none of that matters. You just see the person who ignites your passion and makes you feel incredibly weak and strong all at the same time.
I am not an expert on what makes other people tick, actually I think I can be pretty clueless in that aspect most of the time. Being just a simple boy from Dittmer, Missouri where I grew up tossing a baseball up to hit for hours upon hours by myself; but in those hours my mind was on other things besides trying to hit that ball (with a wooden hand me down bat). With the grass under foot and many trees all around in my solace, words crowded into my mind like metal fillings to a magnet. Those moments are forever locked into my mind as through the eyes of a 10-year old boy. Ten or twelve swings right handed followed by 10-12 swings left handed with very different results. In those swings I would work on pulling the ball, then hitting to centerfield and finally opposite field. I would do that from both sides of the ‘plate’. For the record I actually had a white and black home plate that my father had extricated from one of the khoury league fields in Cedar Hill. For anyone who has seen me play softball, my swing is something of an anomaly from the right side – probably from those countless hours of having to ‘pitch’ to myself. From the left side, my swing was a completely different animal. Long and looping with a severe upper-cut versus short and direct just like night and day and love and hate. But in those instances where I made the right contact…I could hit a ball higher and farther than most people would expect from a runt like me. Every once in awhile I will bust out that left handed swing in a very casual softball game where the competition is not very good or if the game is well decided one way or the other.
Some of you are making the timeout gesture with your hands. What does the above paragraph have to do with love Scott? Well softball is a love of my life…but not the same as being head over heels, sick to your stomach at the thought of losing it, end all-be all grandiose thing that is the real deal between two people who have pressed the edges of their souls together and just reveled in the soothing circle of getting everything you ever needed and wanted in that moment. This is not a metaphor for sex and has nothing to do with sex.
Do not get me wrong I am a lifetime member of the fan club for sex. But sex can be had between almost anyone. Sex can be a mistake or done so one of the people involved feels slighted or unsatisfied. Sex is more of a release and love is a deepening bonding thing. When you nurture the child of love in your belly and see it grow over the years, there is no feeling more powerful at least in my opinion.
Hopefully you have that special someone in your life who yings your yang. That one person who makes your heart skip a beat for a moment or makes you hold your breath when they walk into a room because you have to hold yourself back from running to them and mugging them with a hug and a thunderstorm of kisses.
To those who have been patiently waiting for me to blog again, thank you for rewarding me with your readership. Let’s get together again soon and see what words are fun for each of us.