It’s only natural to search for an explanation; I’m only human. Of course I’ll try to find rhyme and reason among this strangeness. When nothing’s changed for me, it’s hard to see. But we all know what they say about hindsight, and sometimes it’s shockingly true.
It’s hard to notice when you can’t see anything but the light of your life. When you’re content just to bask in their glow and ask for nothing else, you might not notice the things that are missing. The clues become embarrassingly obvious the more I think about them.
How did I not notice?
Of course I didn’t notice.
With a new perspective, it’s abundantly clear; at some point, he just stopped loving me.
But, me? I love too much. And I never seem to stop.
He said, This would be so much easier if you hated me.
I said, We both know that’s not going to happen.
But it hurts him even more to be forgiven.
He curled in on himself and shed tears as he left me. I ran my fingernails across his back in gentle circles as he spoke. I loved him even as he dodged my questions and avoided meeting my eyes. I loved him as he brought in the bags of my things he’d packed from his house and hidden in the car. And I loved him as he stepped out of my arms and walked out the door.
Because it seems that no matter how much I hurt, no matter which way the tides turn, I keep loving on and on anyway. When you really love someone for who they are, it doesn’t change when they hurt you, doesn’t change when they’re gone. It doesn’t even change when they do, because at the core what you love is who they are.
Maybe it would be better if my heart knew how to let go, if my love knew how to fade. But I just love and I love and I don’t know how to stop. How can you ever stop loving someone you truly understand, someone you have truly seen? When you love someone for exactly who they are, flaws and all, how can any silly thing that pushes you apart make any goddamn difference? Any irritating habit, any taxing bid for connection, any frivolous request—none of those little things hold a candle to the person in front of you.
Maybe as the years go on, my heart will reach capacity and the older feelings will fade away. Or maybe I’ll expand infinitely to hold them all. But that nagging idea in the back of my head that if someone could actually feel all of my love, it would be too much—that feeling never really goes away. I don’t actually believe there’s a limit; I don’t think I’ll ever bleed it all out. Somehow there is always more and more. I love and I love and I just don’t know how to stop.
But, if my greatest curse is just an overflowing heart…?
Well, maybe that isn’t so bad after all.