I've decided something today. I watched a movie that I thought, at first, I liked very much. The girl was happy, much happier than most people I know and her smile was bigger than all the pretty girls with smiles like toothaches and sour lemons. She was pretty, but she was cute. She wasn't like other girls in movies with long legs and blonde hair and perfectly ridged cheeks. She was real. She was exceptionally ordinary. Deeply, deeply quirky, too. I loved everything about her, even the "ugly" way with which she cried for surely it was beautiful and real, exhausting to watch--as crying ought to be. But as this movie came to an end and as the love I was certain would prevail did not my heart began to shake just a little. Tears flowed down my cheeks, not for the reasons other humans might've let them flow down their own cheeks, but for a thousand different reasons all involving the never ending valve of emotion that is my confusing and beguiling heart. I cried for missing my sister so achingly as I heard a song that reminded me of her in the film. There were tears of self-pity, of the love I did not possess but ached so greatly to have, even one as painful and heart wrenching as the one seen before me. I half sobbed silently to myself, cheek turned from the screen as I could no longer bear the emotions stirring within me fiercely. It was all too much--missing things. A sister. Dignity. Half of my heart. It just seemed part mad of me to be crying at all, but once I did I couldn't seem to stop. I later cried in the car over the terrible state of severe pain my mother is constantly in and how she bears it too well for someone so beautiful and wonderful and kind. She is so kind. She only deserves peace and comfort in this world. Every good thing should have her lovely name on it.
But as I cried over a great many things I came to a raw realization within myself. It may seem simple, but I don't care. The realization was this: I am hopelessly, irrevocably, desperately living with an open, bleeding and healing heart--constantly. My life is a finite search for love that sometimes feels infinite, ceaseless and never ending. But the great truth is I find love everyday and every moment I do I can feel more fiercely and more decidedly than before.
I've decided to be happy and patient with the love I have now, even if it isn't the one I'm still searching for. It is still beautiful and this life along with it. Even when fears rattle within me, fears of not being enough, of not being enough to make someone stay and say, "I love you" forever. I still have hope for a love that is searching for me as diligently and sweetly as I am searching for it. I know someday I'll find it, even if the people in the film never did (not really).
I'm thankful for crying and missing things today. It reminds me I am beautifully and tragically human. It reminds me I am strong because I can feel things, not because I try not to. What a wonderful adventure I'm on. I'm enjoying every second, even when I'm hurting. How sweet this life really is.
-k.p.
12:57AM
June 7, 2016
Tuesday
