In the fall of 2001, I said to a friend in conversation that I wanted to fall in love again. Neither of us remember the context of that statement but the pure emotion of the statement stuck with her. It was the theme of my Christmas gift that year. It's now approaching nine years since that conversation and I have yet to fall in love again. I don't know quite how I feel about that. I'm not sad nor do I feel like I've missed out on anything in the last nine years but that feeling is definitely with me right now. So as I seek to love again, I'm reflecting on what love was to me.
Love was...
- being listened to.
- being loved.
- being seen for my best, even in my worst moments.
- problem solving.
- encouragement.
- safety and security.
- being a priority.
- feeling beautiful.
- being cared for.
- great kisses.
- hugs that made everything better.
- understanding my struggles.
- wiping away my tears.
- butterflies.
- smiling at the mentioning of a name.
- silly nicknames.
- feeling invincible.
- wanting to share my darkest secret.
- wanting to trust.
- hoping for forever.
- the desire to reciprocate.
I have to say, at 28, love doesn't look much different than it did at 19. The difference is that I know I can get all of these things (except the great kisses) from my friends and, most importantly, from myself. The last nine years have been full of new beginnings, lessons, and growth. I've been building a foundation that will support me so that the next time I do fall in love, it will feel more like a treat than...
oxygen.
