#brushwithlove

I've had my first, and damn what an experience. But a brush is exactly what it was, a faint glimpse, a shadow dancing on my ceiling, it was almost a dream. Lofty, and skiddish, escaping before a I could catch a grasp. A lesson left by the one who left, an infinite paradox of feeling and something beyond comprehension. This word, this feeling, the undefinable idea that is so sought after, and so misunderstood. What a child I have been, naive and innocent, but lacking faith, such a crucial and fundamental component. I've had a brush, and it left me even more lost than I was before, I cannot fathom the immensity and pure simplicity of this plague infecting everything. The only thing I've been left with, after this fleeting encounter, the only thing I could possibly even be aware of about love, is that it is a fight. A fight that so few truly ever conquer, a fight that a meager elite are privy to, a fight that is designed to make the majority fail. In it's essence it is a fight, a choice, a life altering event, and it will destroy so many of us. But when we choose to fight back, god dammit it will force our hearts to beat in ways we have never known.

I can't tell you about my love, I lack the ability to describe, and besides, I only have remnants, brief memories left. But in those moments of remembrance I am often overcome, disoriented and astounded. I am lifted up, and slammed down, beaten beyond repair and healed, a never ending cycle of power wrought upon my mind and heart, my very soul. Scarred in ways that make you cry tears of joy and pain at the same blessed time. I loved my love, and I would have died for it. I would have rotted from the inside, convincing myself this is what was true, never realizing that it was so much more complex, that there was so much more madness out there. I thank my love for freeing me. For being brave in my cowardly face, for breaking our love, so that a better love could fall upon each of us. My eyes are open to certain truths that I had hidden from myself.  I loved my love, I always will, but you cannot hope to fight love and win by yourself. And neither should you have to.

All I know is that if someone tries to tell you what love is, they are full of shit. Love is individual, so don't go around asking what it is, figure it out on your own. That is the absolute beauty and the absolute horror about love, it might look the same for many different people, but it's not. Your heart is the only heart that will know what love is, its the ultimate secret, one we try so desperately to share, but fail at so miserably. Each love is unique, each love has flaws and strengths but again, the only love that's worth it, is the love we choose to fight for.