When You Know You're Meant to be in Love
When you know you’re meant to be in love.
You wonder if it’s because you weren’t meant to be lonely.
And those long walks you take at night or the moment you take a deep breath at the top of a rolling hill in daylight are so glorious and beautiful and wonderful and worldly, but what are all of those things when you are still lonely?
When you know you’re meant to be in love, how do you look back at a year of mixed emotions and unanswered blanks? How do you go alone out into the night and walk the streets without a hand to hold, without another soul that makes you selfish of your senses because without the senses, without touching and smelling and hearing and seeing and tasting, you couldn’t touch and smell and hear and see and taste your lover. Your love. Your one person that you trust because you have to because if you can’t trust them then who? Then who?
When you know you’re meant to be in love why don’t you do what they all do? Why don’t you go to the bar with that shirt that is just too much. Why don’t you drink yourself silly and pretend to feel silly and go home the opposite of empty handed.
Because it feels empty.
Because swiping left and right on a screen feels flashy. Like flashcards you force yourself to read, to see, to memorize to pass a test and then forget. What’s the point of playing if you know it’s a rigged bet? If you know you’re taking them to bed? What’s the point of courting, of romance, of finding common interests, or telling yourself that opposites attract?
The point is, you know you’re meant to be in love.
But that doesn’t make it easier.
Because you give it all you’ve got. And how do you know you can’t trust them until you give them your words and smile and arms and lips and shoulders and other parts of your body and soul? And when you get a smile, when they ask you to dance. You start wondering if it’s finally here at last. Someone to take those long walks at night, to take a deep breath at the top of a rolling hill in daylight where it is glorious and beautiful and wonderful and worldly, such magical things if you aren’t lonely. Just like ketchup or shoelaces or peeling paint can sparkle, anything you notice and you notice everything when you’re on the brink of love, it colors the empty spaces in the coloring book your mind’s been drawing up: A frame work, a loose structure, just waiting for that touch, that smell, that sound, that sight, that taste to bring it all to life.
But not all people know they are meant to be in love. In fact, not all people are meant to be in love. And though quick, it stings like tape ripped from flesh, you realize you’re just a flash card, a word for the night. A little tiny piece to pass the test, to get them through the rest of their colorless life. They ripped up those coloring books years ago.
Sometimes it takes the breath out of you. An unexpected pain with so much potential unfelt pleasure. Like a bud before it bloomed got snipped off after making it through the chill of an arrogant winter.
But. However. Despite it all.
When you know you’re meant to be in love. You know. And you waltz through life experiencing fireworks, waterfalls, mountain tops, and skylines as well as granola, sidewalks, stop signs, and fingernail clippers...Just waiting for wonderful things, mundane things, all things to be colored in.