Summer afternoon

summerHenry James thought “summer afternoon” to be the two most beautiful words in the English language. The hopeless romantic in me wants to agree. He can see the melancholy beauty of the landscape only two words create. He can see a place, a time, he can feel a faint breeze.

And he can also feel love.

I don’t remember a single day when I wasn’t in love. If there’s one thing I’ve been doing longer than writing, that has to be falling in and out of love. I just can’t help myself. Even if it lasts a few minutes, an hour, or the rest of my life, I have to fall in love.

That passion that burns inside my veins, that’s reason alone to live. Love’s simple and profound at the same time. Simple because it’s just our hearts beating fast inside our chests, it’s just a series of physical reactions. And profound because we can give it any meaning we want, because it gives us purpose when we have none, it gives us strength and courage, and it makes us dream.

The pursuit makes us happy, the struggle makes us happy, even when we feel there’s no chance on Earth we’ll ever get the person we love, there’s still an undertone of happiness. We cry, but we’re in love, and that makes it a little bit better.

Getting your heart broken or losing the one you love it’s tragic, I give you that, but the biggest tragedy is not being in love. Apathy, lethargy, this bizarre dream-like state in which nothing makes sense. The feeling that you don’t know where to go, you don’t know what to do.

Boredom. Routine. The free-fall.

No one to catch you.

No one to chase away the gnawing feeling of missing someone you’ve never even met.

It’s been some time since I’ve been in love. And it’s interfering with my writing. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I feel restless because I want to find out. And I know that I can spend most of my time searching for love, but I won’t find the love I want to find.

The thing has an uncanny ability to hide away from you when you need it the most.

I’m not sure if any of this makes sense, if my desire to just fall in love makes sense. I’ve stopped trying to make sense of things my heart dictates a long time ago. I just know that I want to experience beauty in the best way possible: by being hopelessly in love.

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2 comments on “Summer afternoon

  1. Great post!
    I was at a bookstore yesterday looking for greeting cards. When I was younger one of the things I like to do is to look for cards for my boyfriend. We were so in love. I’m a hopeless romantic. In the last several years, every time I looked at “love” cards, I felt a hole in my heart. I’m one person who is passionate and I won’t give you a card which is not in alignment with how I feel. It was very challenging when I was still in a relationship with my husband because I loved him but… it was complicated. There were things he did or did not do that blocked the “flow” of how I felt about him. It ate me up… big time. It wasn’t me anymore.
    Gosh! I guess I should stop before I write anything I might regret… but I hear you. I just miss the feeling of being in love, of being inspired, of feeling high…
    More power to you!
    <3 BP

  2. Join Maimed says:

    This will sound odd. But you’re flexible, and open. So, in the spirit of Love, I warmly and heartily (tee hee!) suggest that you:
    Fall Deeply and Passionately in Love with Yourself.
    Look at you! You know so much about you already; discover each facet with brand new eyes, eyes turned inward, and then outward, because your sensuous physicality is a mirror of the stunningly unique beauty of your personality and your soul. Start a dialogue as someone who has just met you, and then? Fall. Swoon. Share this secret with yourself that no one else need know: you’re in love with you!

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