Until love becomes an intransitive verb

“We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin.” ― Andre Berthiaume

I have got to be honest. Today I realize how I am not ‘there’ yet. And here’s how I know.

I was watching you today. I was also watching my thoughts. You were happy. And truth be told, I don’t like it. As much as I want you to be happy, at this stage, I’m sorry, but what I want is for you to be happy with me, because of me, or because my plan for you works.

Double not-like. Because I don’t like feeling it. I don’t like the fact that I don’t like seeing you happy without me; celebrating happiness without me or with someone else or somewhere else. I feel like I am being constrictive, which is not what i want for you and certainly not a definition of true friend (What’s true? What’s a friend?).

I want you to be free, to be as you are, however you are, with whomever you are. Because I know when you are how you really are, that’s you being at your best.

I am so confused.

So that’s how I know. My love (for you) is still conditional. My love is still a transitive verb. It is still “I love you”, instead of “I love.” I begin to wonder whether this is a misconception of the word Love. You are among the few who can show it to me.

But I’ll stay. Heck, I don’t know what else to do. Other than to stay. With you.

I will keep loving (you) because I can’t stop anyway. Because to stop is to be dishonest with myself. Because to stop is to deny the Beauty that you are, and what He has given (you through) me: the adornment and sentiment that really fills me to the bone. That would be unfair.

I want you, if you please, to stay with me too, as a companion on the way.

Until one day, Love becomes an intransitive verb for me, and perhaps for you too. I will know that day, because you will be my indicator. That is the day I really set you free and allow you to be.

When there is only happiness, no more you or me. When there is only Love.

“At the still point of the turning world,
There the dance is… and there is only the dance.” (T.S.Elliot)

3 thoughts on “Until love becomes an intransitive verb

  1. Eva Post author

    Thank you for visiting and feeling it. Funny how I actually almost delete this very post because it feels too personally revealing. Guess we never know when, where or how we touch and make connections with another person.



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