The difference between falling in love, knowing you are in love, thinking you are in love and believing in your love are all parts of a singular definition separated by very fine, often undefinable lines.
Love is one of those crucial parts of human growth. I'm focusing specifically on romantic love in this case. Lessons taught by love start at different times and arrive in different forms.
Lust is a jester of love that leads one's impressionable heart to believe it is in fact a victim of love when in fact all it yearns for is physical touch, a confidence boost or that elevating feeling of being desired.
Youthful love is a complex t6hing. If you are too young, doubt will test your strength as well as elder generations who "know better". It is incredibly rare yet unbelievably beautiful to find one's soul mate before one's life has even begun.
Love worth fighting for is another spectacular angle of love's definition. Loving someone from a distance proves an obstacle for any couple, I feel honoured to know several strong-willed, patient couples who conquer miles daily and go months without so much as a single kiss. (A true inspiration to me. That sacrifice, trust and effort that must go into everyday things like saying good morning must really be trying)
One's first love is one never forgotten. Until recently, I have never quite known who my first love was as I wasn't sure I had ever been in this endless pit of flailing emotions and spastic outbursts of unnatural behaviour. Until, almost three years later, I realised several things; there was someone to whom I had given the most I could, with whom I had shared everything and for whom I had allowed to have my heart (as I knew it). Yet, due to my irrational fear of being the one to be left I fought against him in everything and yet he with his infinite patience (or stupidity) stuck by me, through the perfect days and the I'd-rather-be-burning-in-hell days. Until the day came when we needed to make a decision about whether we'd stick together or go our separate ways. I wasn't ready to accept that he and I made a wonderful team, I wasn't ready to be in a serious relationship, all of a sudden everything was daunting, hanging over me like a shadow out to get me...and so I did what I do best, I pushed him as far to the edge as I could and I ran.
Revising our memories like flashbacks turning in my head, I remember how we laughed, the things we had in common and how much we appreciated each other (except when I was having commitment related break downs). He was ambitious, motivated, independent, caring and adventurous, everything I craved in a man and I loved him more than he ever knew.
I put on a brave face and caged up my heart and walked away from the only man I would have compromised for, the only man I have ever loved. I treated him selfishly and cruelly. I will always be sorry for not treating him the way I felt inside and I will always be grateful for the years he gave to me. I will always fondly remember our time together.
The reason I drag up this history of mine is to impart some words (wise or not, I know not); Never allow fear, outsiders or pride to stop you from believing or falling in love. You might miss out on a love of a lifetime.
However, that is not to say I regret our separation just as much as I would never wish our memories away because without the individual courses our lives as 'us', as 'him' and as 'I' took, I wouldn't be who I am today. Yes, I miss him and sometimes I allow my mind to wander but if we were to meant to reunite we would not have allowed each other the opportunity to escape a third time.
I don't know much about this gooey, candied, condense-milk-soaked emotion. What I do know is simple; When it comes along, don't make the mistake of taking it or the person offering it for granted, and no, fear isn't really an excuse.
"True remorse is never just a regret over consequence; it is a regret over motive."
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