guru

“There was this one time my uncle asked me what love was. ‘I personally don’t have a clue,’ he said, 'but seeing as you’re in a three-and-some year long relationship, I’m sure that you do.’ He kicked his feet onto the table and leaned back into his seat. I remember sitting there while he just stared. Every time something came out of my mouth it just didn’t feel right. 'It’s like…’ 'well actually…’ 'you know when…’ He sat there and listened to me ramble intently. I started doubting myself because, perhaps, I really didn’t know. 'Sorry,’ I said. He chuckled, 'Don’t apologize.’ The thing is, I knew I was madly in love and that’s what frustrated me. I could not explain it to him in a way that felt satisfactory to me, in a way that made me think: yes, this is it. I’ve been replaying that conversation in my head since you’ve been gone. I think about all the ways I answered before, all the ways I could answer now: Love is when you care for someone not expecting to be loved in return - I remember the first time you laid your head on my shoulder and I could feel my heart beating out my chest. Love is when you’re afraid of being vulnerable again - I remember pushing you away when you started getting too close. Love is giving the person the power to hurt you the most - I remember banging on your bedroom door in the A.M.s wondering why. Love is confiding with your love always - I remember waking up in the middle of the night, with the moonlight leaking through the blinds. You were sound asleep right next to me, so comfortable and vulnerable. I rocked you slightly awake. I felt so empty and lost, and I remember telling you in the dead of night that I was sad, that I was depressed and that I did not know why. You were half-asleep. Your eyes still dreamy and slightly ajar like the crescent moon, and your lips parched, but you placed your arms around my neck and pulled me in. You kissed me like I was an oasis and held me; you indulged me. And that was all I needed. That, all of that, is what love is.”