What it means to love. (For quite possibly only me.)

To love is to offer my all. My mind, my time, my heart, my body, my life.

Probably in that order. To take everything that makes me me and not give it away, rather offer a way inside it. Not to relinquish my independence, rather to invite someone else’s in to mine. To hold out my hands, hold in them my dreams, my needs and honestly say, “what’s mine is yours.”

To love is to say sorry.

To see how I hurt another. Even when I don’t mean to. To say sorry means I understand why something hurts. Even if it wouldn’t hurt me. To say sorry means I recognise the pain I cause and I’ll do my all not to do it again. Without resentment, pride, attachment or anger. With honest humility from a place of knowing I will never be done growing.

To love is to understand.

Not to agree. To hear the needs beneath the words and see the world through my lovers eyes. To respond in kind and thoughtful ways, considering my love, her heart and her mind.

To love is to think of her as much as myself.

Sometimes more so, sometimes less. But a balance in time. To be prepared to make the first move, more than once. To give love freely without condition or rule and to spend my life learning more about her.

To love is give my body.

To offer the best I can give from my physical form. To trust, let go and be all that’s within. To express my love through my touch and my kiss. By giving my body I give my commitment. My vow that I’m here, that “I see you” and “I want you.” My body is not only my body. It’s my promise to want all of her as much as her passion.

To love is to look within.

I am not perfect and I’m often wrong. I’m naive, habitual, arrogant and hurt. To love is to see all of that and how it affects me. How it hurts another and how I can grow. Only when I see how I act and why I feel, can I grasp all I am and offer it truly.

To love is to believe in me.

To feel my power and respect my heart. To stand strong in my needs, not blame and not give up. To know I am worthy, unique and beautifully flawed. I have to know I am lovable and deserving of kindness. I have to see myself as I want to be seen. As I am.

To love is to be honest.

About what I feel and why. To both her and to me so that we both can see. She can’t love my all until I bear it to the sky. I must be honest with myself when it comes to my heart and not question why I need something, but embrace it and ask boldly. I must be really, truly honest. Not surface level dismissive. I have to be prepared to prove myself wrong, prove myself selfish or prove myself hurtful.

To love is to fight.

To believe it can be better and to battle the demons that eat at our love. To find a way when none seems possible. To be relentless in my pursuit of the fruition of my promise. To go back and learn where I went wrong and fight for it to be different this time.

And then, of course, I have to learn how to do all of that.

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Relephant Reads:

Dear Beautiful Wanderer. 

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Relephant bonus:

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Author: Andy Charrington

Editor: Ashleigh Hitchcock

Image: Vinícius Vieira ft/Pexels