I have been in love, once, and yes it is every bit as gloriously upheaving as they say it is. It shakes you and creates spaces, gaps, abysses within your being that only it can fill and then it seethes into every bit of who you are and changes you.
You think your heart breaks when you lose love? No, I have understood with hindsight that our hearts break the moment we fall in love, it breaks to make space for love and every day it only keeps breaking.
So it makes sense that love has to be painful, love has to be all consuming, love has to begin when you feel that first crack.
I’m not here to talk about love today though because for once I have to say, that’s trite.
I am here to talk about something that arrives in our lives under the guise of love because I feel that nobody talks about this enough at all.
So what is this thing? I am not talking about your everyday infatuations, hell no, this isn’t something built on the premise of being wishy washy. This is real, ever so real. This is real from the day it enters into your life until the day you manage to throttle it’s every last memory, and let me tell you, you are better off looking for woolly mammoths again rather than awaiting that day.
I don’t think this has been given a name because it falls under those shades of grey that people so often wish to smudge into black and white, but I know better.
Sitting three years from the day I lost love to this, I better know better.
It isn’t love, but it breaks your heart, it isn’t love, but it sieves into your being, it isn’t love, but it caresses and torments your dreams, it isn’t love, but it is real.
Sometimes we meet individuals in our lives whom we cannot fall in love with, but who are ne’er the less meant to play an extraordinary role in our sojourn.
I don’t know where these people belong because poetry never speaks of them, literature doesn’t speak of them and c’mon we all know Word Porn doesn’t ever address them! So where am I supposed to place this human being?
I tried boxing him up and shoving him somewhere in the back alleys of my mind, but he just kept popping out and prancing his way to the frontlines.
“You can’t pretend that I don’t exist”, he whispers to me every other night as I lay my head on the pillow trying for the life of me to get some shut eye, “You can tell yourself that you don’t love me all you want but I am just gonna lodge here, right at that space between love and gruelling insomnia, I am just going to sit here and watch you try to pretend that I don’t exist”.
So after years of doing this, and then again months of trying it, I gave up this silly fight. It was quite evident that there was no way I was coming out the victor from this one.
Today I am here trying not to define what this is but to validate that it exists. To say that sometimes there is someone at the back of your mind who refuses to stay there, to say that sometimes it might be because we need to accept that they don’t belong there. Let me ask you a question and I need you to really think about this, why did you ever agree with the world when they said that being in love was the only form of heartache, of heartbreak, of longing, of truth? Forget those mellifluous quotes about love, there is something else that can catch you unawares and haunt you for the rest of your life, there is someone else, whom you will never be in love with for whose presence you will crave with every inch of your being, there is someplace else that your heart can go, it isn’t love, but it’s real.