DUST IN LOVE
Saturday, Jan. 11, 2003 - 5:41 p.m.
I close my eyes
Only for a moment, then the moment's gone
All my dreams
Pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
It's the same old song
We're just a drop of water, in an endless sea
kansas..dust in the wind..-Benet
I was reading an entry that Andrea wrote, and it reminded me how fragile life can be.
I took a survey once. One of the questions was...When was the last time you told someone you loved them?
And I thought about it. And I could not remember the last time. I knew that it was around three years ago. I just wasn't sure.
I doubt that I had ever gone more than three days without saying it in my life. And here I found myself wrapped so tightly in my cocoon, that I could not remember the last time I had said it.
It wasn't because I was just too busy to take time to love. Too concerned with the everyday hustle and bustle of life to stop and think of someone else enough to remind them that they were thought of, and loved.
It was because I was in a self-imposed prison. A prison who's walls were so high, that love could neither exit, nor enter.
If I let no one love me, then I need not love anyone else. As love sometimes goes, it can sometimes stop. Love that has stopped can be a very piercing pain. A pain that can disable the everyday thought patterns, and cripple the ability to see a future.
If I do not want the pain of a blade slicing my skin, all I have to do is be careful not to cut myself when using a knife. I have lost nothing by being careful to avoid that pain.
Ah, but to avoid the pain of a love that fades away, is not without loss.
Avoiding that kind of pain, presents it's own brand of pain.
A pain that isn't noticed like the sharpness of a blade. A pain that slowly grows, and conceals itself. More of a dull pain that builds transparent walls. A pain that just as surely becomes a prison. A pain that numbs itself.
We are taught to avoid pain from childhood. Don't touch the stove, it will burn you. Don't run with sharp instruments, you may be hurt. These are good things to learn.
Maybe some pains should not be avoided, because the cost of avoidance outweighs the cost of the acceptance.
I have my comfort zones. I know how to deal with anything that enters them. They are familiar to me. Yet outside of my zones of comfort is where the opportunities are.
So I choose to step outside. I choose to love again, and not let being dust in the wind stop me from loving, and being loved.
I do love. I am loved. I am in love. If this causes me pain, at least it is a pain that can be healed.
previous - next
Indy - Friday, Dec. 11, 2009
ain't that a bitch - Tuesday, Apr. 07, 2009
Did I say Lapse of time? - Saturday, Feb. 21, 2009
Looks like Saskatchewan to me - Tuesday, Nov. 18, 2008
- - Monday, Nov. 17, 2008