love hurts

In life sometimes things happen that take a long time to get over. It doesnt always help to have a good memory. Its sometimes so much easier on yourself to be able to forget and move on. The memory of what we had, what we lost, what we let slip through our fingers is a tough thing to live with. Sometimes we wish we didnt have to go through this.

Maybe and then again maybe not. Even in act of losing, we do gain something. We have passed through a celebration of life and that is something worth remembering. That little magical mysterious funny giggly aching crazy feeling. It was there once, we cant kid ourselves anymore that it wasnt there, that it doesnt exist, because we saw it, we felt it take birth in us and grow till it suffused our entire personality. It really was there, bringing silly grins or loud sighs involuntarily at inopportune moments. It wasnt an illusion or a delusion or dream of something. It was the real thing, the true shining simple bare thing, the connectedness with another heart, the astonishing knowledge of another heart.

Some people say that love doesnt exist, and you smile at them. They still havent got it, but we had it. We dont need any proof or any argument on that. Too bad it didnt last, but theres no doubt it was there. I dont say that its anything special, but its not something trivial either. Its like finding faith or committing to a cause. Theres a line that has been crossed and though only the traces, the wreckage and the heartache remain, still theres no going back. When the heartaches get less frequent, when the memories fade a little more on the edges, when life brings us to the next stop and we get on with it, we still will have this in us.

This memory, this unknowable, magical thing that will always belong to me.

And I look around and catch a little kids eye and grin and stick my tongue out.