When I was a baby, I didn’t much care…just as long as I got food. I won’t mention that any in this equation….
When I was a kid, the difference between True Love and Love was that True Love was in stories and Love was what happened outside of stories. Not that True Love was the best, but in stories, I mean, there were so many villains, who knew who the true lover was???
When I grew a bit older, I learned the meaning behind ‘True Love’; my spouse. That was when True Love became something real, something tangible. A husband. I didn’t really care then either. I was quite sure I was called to singleness. I would never marry. I would never be a wife. I would never have kids. I would be a cowgirl or a horse trainer and go from ranch to ranch seeking adventure. I didn’t need a guy to watch out for me. I would be big enough to do everything on my own.
I got older still. I started wanting the company of boys. One of my close friends started dating (She was around 18, not 13, like me, btw). I think she dated for a good year or so. She was ready and waiting for proposal. What did she get? A text message Sunday morning at church telling her that he was breaking up and that he had been going with another girl for a while. I looked around and saw divorce: broken marriages and broken dreams. I looked at the teenagers around me. What did I see? Breakups between couples. Broken hearts and broken dreams.
What is True Love for me?
True Love is a dream. Made up and fictional; a fragment of someone’s imagination used for enhancing a story. To give a story something that every person craves. True Love is something dangled over young people’s heads, trying to get them to jump up and reach it, just to laugh as they fall to the rocks below and hearts are shattered. True Love is something that people dream about and then wake up and sigh, wishing dreams came true.
True Love is something that I have given up on.
But sometimes…sometimes, I look at my parents, 16 years married and still quite in love with each other. And sometimes…sometimes I look at my grandparents, also quite in love even though they’ve been married since before my parents were born. And sometimes…sometimes you go and see an old couple, sitting together smiling like they were just married. “And how long have you been married?” You ask. “Oh 53 years (or so).” They reply. “Times haven’t always been great, but we’ve always had each other!”
And sometimes…sometimes I wonder if it just might be possible for me too.
This was written in a response to Kinii’s (The Passion to Blog; be sure to check it out!!) challenge to tell what stories and experiences shaped your view of True Love.