Love is limitations, also known as *I am in the storm.*
“We are frightened of people who contain worlds so we try to cut them down to size,” said my friend Rachel. Love seems to be accepting the things that you absolutely hate about the other person, and sticking around. But this week I learned something different. It’s worse when someone you love disappoints you, or is disappointed in you. It feels much worse than a random stranger, because you had given so much to that person. Because they are the ones who helped you become who you are, which means they’re the ones that really matter, and you’re willing to do anything with them, for them. But being able to, or being grounded for love, that seems to be what the definition of love is. you need the eggs, even if you wants you to scream, to tear up the pieces, to tell them you don’t love them, apparently you do love them, even if they have the potential to seriously fuck you up. But you hate them and think it was the worst thing for you, What happens when the person nagging you to go home stops nagging you to go home, do you still want to go home? But it did feel like I had to choose a particular kind of poison, and that poison had filled up our entire house, until it starts to poison everything. but what is there to be said, that this poison is actually food? I didn’t realise that to love was to stay somewhere where where you didn’t want to be, and of course it has and is completely fucking me up.
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disclaimer: I’m actually feeling a lot better. partly thanks to Yoga, tcm, and friends.