Love

Like Thread Through a Needle

/ James Browning

Father-ShadowEven just the thought of what I am about to write makes my eyes well up. Last evening watching a performance of “The “Nutcracker” there was a point I was unexpectedly moved and that feeling has grown since.

Tulsa is blessed to have had a wonderful ballet and symphony and last night’s presentation filled me with the spirit of Christmas. Seeing the young children who played the parts of the mice and clowns especially warmed me with a sense of the season.

My feelings became deeply melancholy (here come the tears) at curtain call when the kids who played the mice were lined up in front due to their small size. For some reason I counted how many in the line and came up with twenty. Instantly I was hit with the realization that was the number of children who were killed in Connecticut two days ago at Sandy Hook Elementary School.

It is not within my grasp to imagine how painful it is to lose a young child and in the circumstances of a few days ago is unfathomable to my heart and mind. The sorrow has to be unspeakable and indescribable. For strangers I will never meet my heart is laden with grief for your pain. I can do nothing but pray for you and let you know here that I care; that millions care. In no way will it make it any easier to bear the anguish and woe, but maybe someday realizing an entire country cries with you will bring some comfort.

My Mom, she tells a lot of lies,
She never did before.
But from now until she dies,
She’ll tell a whole lot more.
Ask my Mom how she is
And because she can’t explain,
She will tell a little lie
Because she can’t describe the pain.
Ask my Mom how she is,
She’ll say “I’m alright.”
If that’s the truth, then tell me,
why does she cry each night?
Ask my Mom how she is,
She seems to cope so well.
She didn’t have a choice you see,
Nor the strength to yell.
Ask my Mom how she is,
“I’m fine, I’m well, I’m coping.”
For God’s sake Mom, just tell the truth,
Just say your heart is broken.
She’ll love me all her life,
I loved her all of mine.
But if you ask her how she is,
She’ll lie and say she’s fine.
I am Here in Heaven.
I cannot hug from here.
If she lies to you don’t listen,
Hug her and hold her near.
Taken from ” Ask My Mom How She Is” – Author Unknown

I am grateful to be touched and able to shoulder a tiny, tiny bit of the pain and grief of the mothers, fathers, grandmothers, grandfathers and families who will not see a child open presents on Christmas morning. I cry for you.

Your absence has gone through me
like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.
W.S. Merwin

Courage Enough To Step Through My Fear

/ James Browning

afraidoflove2What a dichotomy it is to want to be loved, yet fearful of it beyond explanation. Such a condition is called “love avoidance” and it’s a dysfunction I know for my own. It’s a form of “love addiction” and feels like slowly starving even though there is food within reach.

Dr. Janice Caudill wrote, Love avoidance is the systematic putting up of walls in a relationship to prevent feeling emotionally overwhelmed by another person. Consequently, it prevents true intimacy. It can be described as a form of emotional anorexia.

First hand I know love avoidants are romantics. Thirsting for love they spend a lot of time thinking about love and imagining being loved. However, when love arrives in not too long a time the walls begin to go up against it. Sounds crazy doesn’t it. A love avoidant looks for love constantly but runs away when it finds him or her. That the lunacy I lived with for far too long.

Love entered in my heart one day
A sad, unwelcome guest.
But when it begged that it might stay
I let it stay and rest

It broke my nights with sorrowing
It filled my heart with fears
And, when my soul was prone to sing,
It filled my eyes with tears.

But…now that it has gone its way,
I miss the dear ole pain.
And, sometimes, in the night I pray
That Love might come again.
J. California Cooper

Many wounded adults actually avoid love, becoming restless around persons who might provide genuine care and nurturing. In these cases, the closer the adult comes to obtaining the reality of love, the more they will push their partners away. This move, becoming avoidant and trying to create emotional distance within the relationship, is fueled by a fear of intimacy. Some love avoidants push away love as a test to see if their partner will continue to love them even when they are acting disagreeable or unpleasant. This behavior is a result of the conditional and irregular love the wounded adult experienced as children from their caregivers.

The struggle for the love avoidant is that he/she, like anyone else, wants to feel love and closeness. Regardless of what the past emotional, physical and/or sexual wounds might be, there is still an intrinsic desire for the security and affection and healing that comes from love.

For most love avoidants, they are very good at beginning relationships, but horrible at keeping and maintaining a relationship. There is a lot of pulling in and pushing out – pulling in their love interest and then once the connection happens and the relationship becomes deeper, they push their partner away. Douglas Dobberfuhl

It’s said that knowing is half the battle. Today my love avoidant tendencies are not nearly as pronounced as they once were. A good therapist, growing awareness of my habits and consistent work to amend them has made a remarkable difference in my life. Am I cured? Heck no; never will be completely. But I am deeply grateful for the more open heart that lives within me today. It has been a hard-fought battle against myself, but today I have courage enough to step through my fear and let love in.

Of all the events of my life,
inclusive of its afflictions,
nothing has humbled me
so much as your love.
Elizabeth Barrett to Robert Browning

22 Years Later

/ James Browning

LOVE-LETTER-large570

Beautiful love stories still happen. This is from Huffington Post:

Cathy Knorr and Trevor Webb tied the knot, their relationship came full circle — and they had a middle school love letter to prove it.

At their October wedding, the couple, who met during sixth grade in 1990, displayed a letter Webb wrote to Knorr in middle school urging her to go out with him. Photographer Aislinn Kate Rehwinkel snapped a photo of the letter and it was posted on Reddit on Tuesday.

“Dear Cathy, I still like you and I still want you to go with me. I know Brad likes you. Please decide who you’re going to go with. Think hard and let me know your decision. I’ll be standing at the end of this hall and the beginning of the other hall. Meet me there as soon as school’s out and you can tell me. Sincerely, Trevor,” the letter reads.

“DON’T LET ANYONE SEE THIS,” it says at the top.

Knorr told HuffPost Weddings that she did meet Webb at the end of the hall and they dated for two weeks. But Knorr dumped Webb for another boy.

“He playfully reminds me from time to time, ‘You broke my heart and dumped me for Alex Norris!'” Knorr said.

Knorr and Webb eventually rebuilt their friendship, and remained best friends despite living in different cities after high school. They both returned to their hometown of Pensacola, Florida, in 2006, and Webb broke up with the girl he’d been dating shortly after that.

“Several weeks later we shared an unexpected and fateful kiss on the beach, having never blurred the lines of friendship. I thought to myself, ‘Well, that’s what I’ve been missing all these years!'” Knorr told HuffPost. “Since that day we have been inseparable.”

Webb proposed to Knorr at an ice skating rink where he had given her a ring in middle school (this time, he gave her a diamond). Knorr had kept Webb’s middle school love letter in a shoebox in her closet and displayed it at their wedding.

“Trevor is a bit embarrassed of how insistent it sounded, but we sure did get a kick out of reading it and sharing it with others. I’m lucky to have found such a beautiful love in a best friend,” Knorr said. “I wish I had come to my senses sooner!”http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/11/30/love-letter_n_2214622.html

So much is said and written today about relationships that don’t work or don’t work well. It warms my heart to know there are still real life “Cinderella and the handsome prince” stories. I am grateful for the reminder that good love between a man and woman is not as rare as I sometimes think it is.

I could not tell you if I loved you the first moment I saw you,
or if it was the second or third or fourth.
But I remember the first moment I looked at you
walking toward me and realized that somehow
the rest of the world seemed to vanish when I was with you.
Cassandra Clare

Love Versus Fear

/ James Browning

Light_vs__Dark_by_environautLOVE IS UNCONDITIONAL (fear is conditional)

LOVE IS STRONG (fear is weak)

LOVE RELEASES (fear obligates)

LOVE SURRENDERS (fear binds)

LOVE IS HONEST (fear is deceitful)

LOVE TRUSTS (fear suspects)

LOVE ALLOWS (fear dictates)

LOVE GIVES (fear resists)

LOVE FORGIVES (fear blames)

LOVE IS COMPASSIONATE (fear pities)

LOVE CHOOSES (fear avoids)

LOVE IS KIND (fear is angry)

LOVE IGNITES (fear incites)

LOVE EMBRACES (fear repudiates)

LOVE CREATES (fear negates)

LOVE HEALS (fear hurts)

LOVE IS MAGIC (fear is superstitious)

LOVE ENERGIZES (fear saps)

LOVE IS AN ELIXIR (fear is a poison)

LOVE INSPIRES (fear worries)

LOVE DESIRES (fear Joneses)

LOVE IS PATIENT (fear is nervous)

LOVE IS BRAVE (fear is afraid)

LOVE IS RELAXED (fear is pressured)

LOVE IS BLIND (fear is judgmental)

LOVE RESPECTS (fear disregards)

LOVE ACCEPTS (fear rejects)

LOVE DREAMS (fear schemes)

LOVE WANTS TO PLAY (fear needs to control)

LOVE ENJOYS (fear suffers)

LOVE FREES (fear imprisons)

LOVE BELIEVES (fear deceives)

LOVE “WANTS” (fear “needs”)

LOVE versus fear: what do you feel?

“Love Versus Fear” by storyteller and filmmaker Sarah Nean Bruce
http://tinybuddha.com/blog/love-versus-fear/
http://www.sarahneanbruce.com/

On occasion it is the simple that makes the deepest impression. Reading the statement “LOVE versus fear: what do you feel?” painted itself into my memory. The question and the statements before it will be handy to recall when I need help centering and sorting my feelings. My gratitude goes to Ms. Bruce for her uncomplicated list of what love is and what is only fear pretending to be something it’s not.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our Light, not our Darkness, that most frightens us.
Marianne Williamson

The Cloud and the Dune

/ James Browning

A young cloud was born in the midst of a great storm over the Mediterranean Sea, but he did not even have time to grow up there, for a strong wind pushed all the clouds over towards Africa. As soon as the clouds reached the continent, the climate changed. A bright sun was shining in the sky and stretched out beneath them, lay the golden sands of the Sahara. Since it almost never rains in the desert, the wind continued pushing the clouds towards the forests in the south.

Meanwhile, as happens with young humans too, the young cloud decided to leave his parents and his older friends in order to discover the world. “What are you doing?” cried the wind. “The desert’s the same all over. Rejoin the other clouds, and we’ll go to Central Africa where there are amazing mountains and trees!”

But the young cloud, a natural rebel, refused to obey, and gradually, he dropped down until he found a gentle, generous breeze that allowed him to hover over the golden sands. After much to-ing and fro-ing, he noticed that one of the dunes was smiling at him.

He saw that the dune was also young, newly formed by the wind that had just passed over. He fell in love with her golden hair right there and then. “Good morning,” he said. “What’s life like down there?”

“I have the company of the other dunes, of the sun and the wind, and of the caravans that occasionally pass through here. Sometimes it’s really hot, but it’s still bearable. What’s life like up there?”

“We have the sun and the wind too, but the good thing is that I can travel across the sky and see more things.”

“For me”, said the dune, “life is short. When the wind returns from the forests, I will disappear.”

“And does that make you sad?”

“It makes me feel that I have no purpose in life.”

“I feel the same. As soon as another wind comes along, I’ll go south and be transformed into the rain; but that is my destiny.”

The dune hesitated for a moment, then said: “Did you know that here in the desert, we call the rain paradise?”

“I had no idea I could ever be that important,” said the cloud proudly.

“I’ve heard other older dunes tell stories about the rain. They say that, after the rain, we are all covered with grass and flowers. But I’ll never experience that, because in the desert it rains so rarely.”

It was the cloud’s turn to hesitate now. Then he smiled broadly and said: “If you like, I could rain on you now. I know I’ve only just got here, but I love you, and I’d like to stay here for ever.”

“When I first saw you up in the sky, I fell in love with you too”, said the dune. “But if you transform your lovely white hair into rain, you will die.” “Love never dies”, said the dune. “It is transformed , and besides, I want to show you what paradise is like.”

And he began to caress the dune with little drops of rain, so that they could stay together for longer, until a rainbow appeared. The following day, the little dune was covered in flowers. Other clouds that passed over, heading for Africa, thought that it must be part of the forest they were looking for and scattered more rain. Twenty years later, the dune had been transformed into an oasis that refreshed travelers with the shade of its trees.

And all because, one day, a cloud fell in love, and was not afraid to give his life for that love.

“The Cloud and the Dune” fable by priest and theologian Bruno Ferrero*, came to me unforeseen when doing a completely unrelated search. The story’s simplistic beauty and wisdom moved me to share this delightful teaching tale. For the second day in a row coincidence, or as I choose to think my Higher power, bought me an unexpected catalyst to grow my measure of morning gratitude.

True love is like ghosts,
which everybody talks about
and few have seen.
Francis Duc de La Rochefoucauld

*Find Bruno Ferrero’s blog “Circle of Joy” here: http://doina-touchinghearts.blogspot.com/2012/09/circle-of-joy-by-bruno-ferrero.html

Most Loving Family I Have Known

/ James Browning

 

Last evening my Codependence Anonymous ‘family’ celebrated my fifth year in recovery from codependency.  It was a moving experience just like each anniversary before. “Blessed Are They” below originally posted on April 5, 2012 https://goodmorninggratitude.com/2012/04/05/blessed-are-they/

Codependency is a behavior pattern in which a person tends to form unhealthy relationships. People like me who have engaged in codependent behavior almost always appear to place the needs and desires of other people before their own. These other people often have unresolved emotional issues and sometimes addictions which the codependent person tries to repair, ignore or avoid. That is certainly true with me as I often picked people who needed “fixing”.

Ironically, the source of codependency isn’t about other people – it’s about the relationship with one’s self. Generally this manifests in things like insecurity, deficient self-confidence and even self-loathing. At the core of it all is a scarcity of self-love. Within that condition I spent many years feeling “less than” and that I didn’t measure up. I hid those feelings well and they were rarely noticed by anyone.

One of the tendencies of codependency is difficulty accepting gifts. When someone gives me something, that gift is far from unappreciated. Actually I am thankful beyond my ability to express gratitude. It’s a conflicted feeling of unworthiness in one sense, yet being hugely grateful at the same moment. Talk about bewildering!

Gifts received with difficulty are not just tangible items, but compliments and pats on the back as well. The latter two can be especially hard to accept with a tendency to deflect the good that has been expressed in my direction. At the least there is often some sort of discounting expressed. An example is someone saying to me “you did a great job on that project” with my reply being “no big deal” or “most anyone could have done it”. Receiving positive feedback is highly prized within me but even today I am uncomfortable receiving it. However I have learned to just say “thank you” even though I often blush a little when I do.

There is a tradition in most 12-Step groups to celebrate the annual anniversary of a when a person first got into recovery. Codependents Anonymous is no exception. A brass coin is given which is first “charged” with a few encouraging comments said by each group member one at a time while holding the coin.

The date marking the end of my fourth fifth year was last October, but when it came up in the group to award my coin I always found some excuse to put off the award. I’d say I wanted to make sure “so and so” was at the meeting or something of the sort. Of course I always picked someone who rarely came to the meetings any more as my way of putting it off.

Why I kept dragging my feet on the simple little celebration of my anniversary was simple: Listening to good things said about me on other “recovery birthdays” embarrassed me. I LOVED HEARING THEM but reception of those “gifts of love in words” from the group members conflicted with the conditioning of codependence of not being “worthy”.

Such kindness and love expressed toward me last night brought fidgeting, teared up eyes and even a red face of positive embarrassment more than one. The latter coming from the simple fact that it is still hard to imagine that people like and respect me as much as they said. Yet, I know all spoke honest words from their heart. A day latter the joy still dances in me for the sincere people who said such loving things to me. The little boy who rarely if ever got such praise as a child is happily frolicking within today. I am grateful beyond words to my Wednesday Codependence Anonymous group!

Blessed are they who see beautiful things
in humble places where other people see nothing.
Camille Pissarro

Believe In Love More Today

/ James Browning

I was in love with love before I knew what it was. When one lives with lack of affection as I did as a young child, the yearning to fill that hole starts early and never completely leaves. Even understanding today that what went on when I was a kid placed an unnecessary deep need within does not diminish my desire to be loved and appreciated. That’s ironic because love is also a fairly scary for me.

In regards to love I frequently have not known exactly what to do or say, but always have wanted to do it to perfection. Without a stutter or hesitation has been how I have desired to express my truest feelings, yet hesitate and have great difficulty successfully following through on my intention. Or else I go too far and gush forth with such expression of feeling the object of my affection does not what to do with it all. I’m great with family and friends, but in a romantic relationship I always feel like I am thirteen years old again; an unsure, stumbling boy. Actually for me that is some of the charm of it all; I am still excited about the possibilities of love.

Even today I am not tired of love as so many in middle age seem to be. “Been there, done that” is the attitude I hear often from singles in my peer group. The “put downs” of the opposite gender are often spoken by such people frequently as a cover for their bad choices. Well, sorry folks, till my last dying breath I will never adopt such attitudes.  I’ve made my mistakes, but believe in love more today than I ever have.

From one of many of the books I have accumulated on love comes the following advice:

What does the one you love really want from you? The answer is “you”. So that’s what you ought to give. “You”, in your own style and own words. Don’t try to write like a poet, unless tha’s what you really want to do. The point is, you don’t have to write like a poet to say what you want to say, nor is that the standard you will be judged by.

What you will be judged by is feeling, thoughtfulness, enthusiasm and, most of all, sincerity. Could any poet convey those qualities to the one you love better than you? Not Shakespeare himself!

Letting go of your inhibitions will add immeasurably to the enthusiasm that you feel and transmit. And in communication, enthusiasm is as contagious as it is credible. The real you, and the assurance that you love him or her in your own way, in your own words. That’s what he or she wants to hear and see from you. Nothing more, nothing less.

Remember too, you are writing to only one person who is not going to judge you like an English teacher, because that person is your most understanding friend and is interested in one thing: to know how you feel about her or him, in your own words.

How can you lose? Your audience is totally on your side, and all it wants is what you and you along are capable of delivering. An honest expression of your love that will be as individual as your fingerprint. From “You Don’t Have To Be A Poet To Put Your Love Into Words” by James D. Donovan

With great gratitude I say, “I am deeply grateful for the ability to love and can be loved”. My openness for love is a gift that goes against the grain of age. I am thankful to be able to easily go against the flow.

In the one we love, we find our second self.
Love is the beauty of the soul.
To love abundantly is to live abundantly,
to love forever is to live forever.
There is exquisite beauty in the heart that cares and loves.
Love believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Unknown

Stuck Like Song Lyrics

/ James Browning

It’s autumn’s first cool night,
And a chill rides upon the air;
The sort that wakens memories
Some sweet; Some old; some fair.
So come; come one, come all
And sit by the fire with me,
And listen closely with your heart
To Poe’s sad story of “Annabel Lee”.
James Browning

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Edgar Allan Poe

Stopping by a chain bookstore today I spent time browsing some editions of literature they carry that are beautifully and ornately hard-bound. One particularly striking book I purchased as an early start of my Christmas shopping (for my son). Another striking book I picked up, thumbed through and laid down. I picked it back up and laid it down three times. Each time “The Works of Edgar Allen Poe” opened to “Annabel Lee”. On the first two glances I read just a little, then thumbed to other pages. The third time I stopped and read the poem all the way through once then twice.

I am grateful his “ode to love” touches me as it does and makes my heart soar. A sad story for sure, but the bitter-sweet kind in just the correct measure to make one feel delight in its telling. Hours have passed but Poe’s words still sing in my head, stuck like song lyrics there.

Every heart sings a song, incomplete,
until another heart whispers back.
Those who wish to sing always find a song.
At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.
Plato

Someone Somewhere for Everyone

/ James Browning

Some say a hapless romantic is hopeless; always searching, but never finding. They believe an insatiable yearning for ‘someone else’ afflicts some people to the point they can never be fully content with one person. I believe they are wrong and there is at least one ‘someone’, somewhere for everyone. I find inspiration, hope and even joy in the possibility of what Tom Hiddleston wrote:

When I love someone’s character, over time I’ll see that personality, I love so much, shining through their eyes and fusing with their appearance, turning them in the most beautiful girl in the world.

It’s not about appearance, it’s about someone’s beautiful, amazing, wonderful, fantastic personality, you’ll see every time you look at her.

It’s about the fact that when you look in her eyes, you just feel home…

You forget all your problems, all your fears, you just feel safe, you feel like you’ve finally found a place where you belong…

A place you can spend an eternity, where you will spend an eternity, cause those enchanting, beautiful eyes will slow down time and make every second; looking in her beautiful eyes, right into her amazing personality, last more than a lifetime.

It’s about the fact that the whole world, the whole universe just looks so much more beautiful!

All of a sudden everything looks different and your heart will just start smiling.

That’s what love is all about… the moment someone you only “liked” before, changes into the most aesthetically pleasing girl in the world.

The moment you realize how blind you’ve been all those days, how you were living in a fake universe, never knowing that the only thing your life is all about, the only thing that keeps you smiling, was all the time right next to you.

I am grateful my youthful heart is still alive in this middle-aged body and capable of appreciating, even feeling joy, at just reading such words. Truly blessed am I to be so open to love.


My whole body sank forward into his arms.
His lips moved against mine, exploring my mouth so gently.
I tried to mimic his movements–slowly,
uncertainly, until I didn’t have to think about it at all.
It just felt right. He cupped his hands behind my head,
pulling me closer until I couldn’t tell where my mouth ended
and his began. A liquid sensation swooped throughout my stomach.
It was the most amazing thing I’d ever felt
and it kept growing,
the vibrating heat expanding outward.
I was surprised I was still able to stand.
Heather Anastasiu

That Wish Was Never Granted

/ James Browning

Don’t fall in love. Rise with it.
Amit Abraham

It’s a terrible feeling when you first fall in love. Your mind gets completely taken over, you can’t function properly anymore. The world turns into a dream place, nothing seems real. you forget your keys, no one seems to be talking English and even if they are you don’t care as you can’t hear what they’re saying anyway, and it doesn’t matter since you’re not really there.

Things you cared about before don’t seem to matter anymore and things you didn’t think you cared about suddenly do. I must become a brilliant cook, I don’t want to waste time seeing my friends when I could be with him (her), I feel no sympathy for all those people in India killed by an earthquake last night; what is the matter with me? It’s a kind of hell, but you feel like you’re in heaven.

Even your body goes out of control; you can’t eat; you don’t sleep properly: your legs turn to jelly as you’re not sure where the floor is anymore. You have butterflies permanently, not only in your tummy but all over your body – your hands, your shoulders, your chest, your eyes; everything’s just a jangling mess of nerve endings tingling with fire. It makes you feel so alive and yet its like being suffocated. You don’t seem to be able to see or hear anything real anymore. Its like people are speaking to you through treacle.

And so you stay in your cozy place with him (her), the place that only you two understand. Occasionally you’re forced to come up for air by your biggest enemy, “Real Life”, so you do the minimum then head back down under your love blanket for more, knowing it’s uncomfortable but compulsory.

And then, once you think you’ve got him (her), the panic sets in. What if I blow it; say the wrong thing? What if he (she) meets someone better than me? Perhaps he (she) doesn’t feel the same; maybe this is all in my head and this is just a quick fling.  He (she) says he loves me; yes, well, we can all say words, can’t we? Perhaps he’s (she’s) just being polite.

Of course you do your best to keep all this to yourself, you don’t want him (her) to think you’re a neurotic nutcase, but now when he’s (she’s) away doing “Real Life”, it’s agony; your mind won’t leave you alone; it tortures you and examines your every moment spent together, pointing out how stupid you’ve been to allow yourself to get this carried away; how insane you are to imagine someone would feel like that about you. From “Birthday Girls” by Anabell Giles

Nothing I have experienced is as confusing and difficult, yet wonderfully inspiring as romantic love.  My maturity sinks to that of an inexperienced teenager when love is raining on me. I sweat, fumble and don’t know what to say, yet relish every uncomfortable moment.  My old heart is tattered and shows cracks where the broken parts have been put back together, but love is stronger than fear.  No matter how much I have at times wished to be unable to feel it any longer, I am deeply grateful that wish was never granted.  I am glad to know love.

Sweetheart, darling, dearest,
it was funny to think that these endearments,
which used to sound exceedingly sentimental in movies and books,
now held great importance, simple but true verbal affirmations
of how they felt for each other. They were words only the heart
could hear and understand, words that could impart
entire pentameter sonnets in their few, short syllables.
E. A. Bucchianeri