When I say “I love”, I wanna make sure I am actually loving.
When I say, “I LOVE YOU”. I ask myself:
Who is “I”?
What is “Love”?
Who is “You”?
When I say I love someone, I wanna make sure I am loving the reality of this being and not just my own feeling of being in love.
When I’ve been enamored I’ve been blind because I’ve overlapped my own ideal of who others were or could have been with the actual way this beings were. I’ve focused so intensely on my own images for them that I’ve ended up only seeing my own fantastic, colorful, immaculate projections on them and then I felt in love.
I’ve painted other’ souls with wonderful shades of what I needed to see. I’ve forced my own world on them, my own perception of good and sacred and worthy on them. I’ve stuffed their space with my own candles and wings. And then I felt in love.
Oh! I felt so disappointed when, simply naked and beautifully real, these souls disrobed in front of me for who they were: brave and fragile humans exposed to me.
I’ve done the same to God. I wanted Him strong, perfect, impeccable, infinite. But oh ! I’ve seen Him end, filled with black holes and uncountable imperfections. I’ve seen Him modest and bare. And humbly Beautiful. Standing in front of me.
Thus I’ve learned.
The breathtaking never-ending grace of Others that can fulfill an entire existence, lays in their heroic attempt of always trying to overcome their own tenderness and clumsiness.
This, is what I Love.
This, I can love for an entire life. Because it won’t go, when youth is gone. It won’t go, when gold is gone. It won’t go, when glory is gone.
In this, I can have Faith and Love.
In this, I can love myself and others and God. Because it’s written in every cell of all beings that we will simply TRY to love.
I will try.
This is all I have, all I know.
Life will always try to be. Love will always try to care. In its openness and in its closure, in its darkness and in its light, in its perversion and obscurity and cruelty and massacres, in its deaths and explosions. Thus Love will try, in a thousands attempts, to Love.
Therefore I forgive.
I forgive all my-selves and all my parents and all my lovers and all my Gods. And I eventually always go back to being fully open hearted.
Whoever said God is perfect condemned humans to misery. Our given reality is the most gorgeous gift. Heaven is Hic Et Nunc. HERE AND NOW.
I take it for what it is.
And I fucking love it.