Letters for Love

01. Dear Love

Dear Love,

As a little girl I would dream about you. Make fantasies of you as a prince or even a wall. Create fake names for the character of you to fill the void that was missing in the many stories that were told about you. Love, I would desperately search for you, in film and cinema that portrayed a version of you that seemed so beautiful and necessary.

So often I would see you painted across social media as an ideal happiness, post after post manufacturing the way you should be. I would wait and wait for you to appear in my life but when you didn't show up I became impatient and decided to forge a version of you that I thought was real. I tried to force you onto me and distort an image of you into boys who so much as glanced at me. I would look and see everyone seizing you in the arms of boys and girls and I couldn't help but feel angry that I could never catch you.

I see people throwing your name around carelessly these days, Love. So often I hear them shout your name proclaiming to someone else that they know you and have already found you. I see promises that are intertwined with you in the form of white dresses and diamond rings, I see promises that are broken because of you inscribed in ink and paper. I hear lies spoken softly pretending to be you, to achieve wealth and fame. I hear truths on the rooftop crying that they can catch you but they do not want to.

Love, why are you so difficult? Those who have never caught you are longing for you. They look to the sins of the world to satisfy themselves of the attention you offer. They are suffering and sitting there alone, wondering if you even care, if you're even there.

Those who have you are not content either.  They must keep tending to you, making sure you're safe and protected. Working tirelessly to keep you alive. They are constantly battling you and fighting for you to stay. But no matter how hard someone tries to save you, if the other person has already given up on you, you still die. They scream words and words of what they think you are but to no avail you cannot hear them anymore. But why must you leave at all? Why must you become sick in the first place?

Why must you make us rip out our hearts and bear it for all to see in order for you to decide if you'll stay? Even if we give everything we have to you, it still might not be enough. As humans we are reckless this way, because knowing this we still risk our skin and bones just hoping that the other person may have you too. And when you leave, the patches of our heart are sewn back together piece by piece, but the scars are still there, and our hearts are still pumping because it still has hope that you'll come back someday.

You see Love there is no middle ground with you. Because no matter how many times you hurt us, we always come back, all in, hands and hearts wide, craving you once again. A viscous cycle some may have given up on because it seems the same as knocking on a door that they know won't open, useless and disappointing.

I used to believe you would never come to me. All of my life I have wanted you, but you were always hiding in places too dark for me to see. Or maybe it wasn't because the places were too dark, maybe it was because I was blind to the mask of expectation that I had put on myself. Blind to the idea of who I thought you ought to be.

It is not until now that I have finally found where you are. For years I have searched and searched for you in all of the wrong places. You were not in the irises of boys, nor were you hiding in the place of approval and acceptance. The thing is, Love, is that I didn't have to search, I didn't have to reach for you because you were always there. You have always been there persistently waiting for me to realize that you didn't have to be in the mirage of a boy because you are found in so many other different places. In the contagious smiles of my friends, in the arms of my family, in the floors of the church, and in the space where I laugh loudly and smile brightly. Most importantly, you Love were and are always within me. Residing earnestly in my heart that could only feel the flaws and imperfections of myself and now I am at long last conscious to the fact that those blemishes perfectly make me who I am. Love, you bring a lot of grief and hardship. You bring sadness and hurt and pain, but as much as that is a part of who you are, you bring even more joy and happiness. And that's why I think you're worth fighting for.

Because as cliche as this may sound, you are worth it. You are worth it, and so much more. So thank you, for not giving up on me even when I gave up on you. As far apart as we may get I have a big feeling that this isn't the last time that I'll see you, and the next time that we meet, I'll be ready.

Your friend,

Anonymous.