It’s funny how our perceptions change.
Two things we perceive differently throughout the stages of our life are: time and love. Particularly, in the manner they relate to each other. Time can make love grow. Love can make time seem like it’s flying by, or in contrast, make it slow to a crawl.
One thing that seems to go without saying, pertains to how time alters the way we love. Most would agree that when we are young, we invest emotionally with foolish hearts. Our naivety betrays us; we haven’t begun to understand its complexities. It isn’t until we grow old, bitter, and experience loss and pain, that we can fully grasp “love”. At least, that’s what a lot of us are taught.
For a long time, I felt like I was chasing after a feeling I couldn’t achieve.
When I was younger, it felt so easy and pure. My thoughts, emotions, my actions, so unequivocally influenced by my notion of what loving another was. There were no complexities, and that was the beauty of it all; it was simple. It felt nice. Of course, these were the ideas of a foolish young boy.
Throughout my high school years, I hopelessly tried to recreate that initial feeling of love. The idea that these attempts were fruitless, were burned in the back of my head, hindering me. I would go as far as saying, that in a dire attempt to prove the critics wrong, I forced my hand a little too hard. Early adulthood would further perpetuate these issues. I invested time, emotions, into relationships that were devoid of that feeling I was chasing so desperately.
I was 7 the first time I felt love.
For six years, that feeling would never waver. It sounds silly and juvenile, but everything poetry and prose taught me about love, I felt for this one person. I was made to be ashamed of feeling that way though. Unless you’re living in a movie, young-love is often a jumping point for mockery in our society. The teasing is relentless, despite being groundless. We don’t call it “young-like”. While time and experience may change the reasons we feel love, the intensity of the feeling never goes away.
It’s been 15 years since our paths diverted, I’m finally catching up with that feeling again.
Awhile back, my roommate Paul and I were joking about relationship milestones. “First argument” was one that got immediately brought up. That’s another aspect of love that seems to be shaped by time: milestones. When we’re younger the smaller mountains we climb, seem so impressive. As we get older, things like “one-month anniversary”, “first kiss”, and other “events” become trivialities.
Today marks 3 months of k and I being together.
I know it doesn’t sound like much. For someone who has struggled for so long to maintain, and be happy in a relationship, a quarter of a year is pretty significant. There won’t be a big kerfuffle about it. No cheesy date night. Just a reminder that for the first time in 15 years, my heart bottoms out every single time I think of someone. That, the day before I know I will see her, is filled with such excitement. Every day feels like a new day.
Simply put, there’s someone in the world, who makes me feel like I’m learning what love is, all over again. No matter how naive that sounds, or how quickly it’s happened, the joy and happiness that it gives me, is enough to drown out any and all doubters.