To Love Freely Is My Nature

I keep my baking soda in a mason jar under the sink and last night when I was cleaning my kitchen I remembered that this mason jar used to be where I put the things I loved about you. It’s funny how fast your mind and body can be catapulted back to that moment in time. When all that mattered was feeling your hand hold mine and hearing your heartbeat when I laid my head on your chest. That mason jar holds the memory of you and me, stuck forever in that teenage dream.

He made me feel silly and sexy, not an easy pairing. I felt myself open when I was with him and allowed myself to be daring. Letting my heavily policed personality breathe for just a bit, I found some stable ground just by sitting with him. My breath caught in my throat when he first told me he loved me. Sleeping outside on the ground he made me feel like the girl with the crown. How lucky was I to feel so much, for not everyone finds someone so young. He matched me in ways I could have never guessed and truly was good at a quick word jest. Our eyes could meet and a conversation would exchange, we always found the same wavelength, what a strange thing. We let things get complicated as we grew up, always trying to find our way back to that young love. 

This mason jar has seen my heart break many more times since you. It has seen me in the deepest stages of grief and sadness, sometimes from boys, yes that’s true. The deepest grief of all has been mourning the girl I was. I have grown up now that my world has been undone. How funny that this object has stayed the same through so many different versions of my name.

He told me how special I was and that made me blush. I swore I would write a book one day and he backed me up. I thought if I tried harder I could make it work, but we were just two ships passing in the dark. I wish I could tell him how much he meant to me, I never had anyone show up so easily. He made me laugh at his words and talked to me for hours and even made a powerpoint to show me his city’s towers. I almost packed my suitcase and got ready to go but I had to find myself first which hurt, I know. 

Love is our greatest teacher. To love freely is my nature and I can’t tell you the amount of times that I’ve had to build myself back piece by piece because that very trait has betrayed me. Loving open, naturally, and unapologetically. What a courageous act. In the era of playing games, hook-up culture, and apps it’s a radical choice to let your heart be seen. 

They say that you learn something from every love that’s lost but I believe that love is never lost. Once you feel love knocking at your door it lives in your body forever. A gentle reminder every time you see them post on social media, hear that band they like, or are reminded of their banter. How strange that the memory of them can feel so close but also a lifetime ago. 

He offered me a drink and told me he liked my jeans and something inside me decided to release. I found myself giggling at jokes that were only a little funny but I liked the way he looked at me, brown eyes like honey. A connection that lasted hours and not days, it’s funny that I don’t even know his middle name. 

That reminder bubbles up through your body, building from your toes to your head until you acknowledge it’s there. A reminder of not only how you loved them but who you were then. A dizzying recollection of how you felt when you saw them and the way they smiled when they caught you looking. Will I ever look in someone’s eyes and feel like they know the deepest parts of my soul? When we are walking and holding hands will they think it’s cute I try to pop their thumb or will they belittle me until I’m done? When they hold me will I feel like there’s no barrier between our bodies or will they feel like a stranger that’s not as inviting?

I told my mom I had dreams about her in a moment of panic about what that could mean. My friends agreed her taste was sweet and we all had had a similar dream. Her touch was softer and it took all that I could muster to wake up and face the world with no clear answer. A fantasy that lives in the back of my mind, it’s fun to think about from time to time. 

Can we look at endings as an opportunity for new beginnings? How liberating to tell someone new how you hate pizza crust but love when they tease you. Or how when you are nervous or sad your body shakes and that all you need is their patience and a hand.

He offered me a joke when I didn’t feel like laughing and a good glass of wine that made me feel so fine. We had fun while it lasted, of this I am sure but forever was merely a moment for us and nothing more. I learned so much about communication and patience, what an important lesson. He showed me a version I had never let in. How fun it was for those months, but now I am so happy he has found his own bunch.

How beautiful would our world be if we allowed ourselves to let the experiences just be. To feel the rise and fall of our emotions, feel them to our core, and lovingly file them as memories. Living memories that even when you are old and playing with your grandkids you can fondly remember their soft touch or the flirty words of their love letters.

I felt a shock of electricity when he shook my hand. I knew I had to be professional but I didn’t understand.  He lingered for far too long and told me stories of his life that felt as though we had seen another time. The pull to him was magnetic and a fun break from my work. But when the job was done he moved along. Strong and callused, I thought about him for weeks and how the only thing that passed between us was a blush in our cheeks. 

The truth is that pain is present where love is. Whether we grieve a six month or six year relationship the weight can feel the same. Losing your person is not for the faint of heart. But how can you really lose when you’ve had yourself from the start?  You will learn how to build that dresser and to sleep with your pillows against your back to make it feel he’s closer. One day you will revisit the spots you used to go to and realize it no longer feels like theirs.

I liked his quiet demeanor and learned to love his dry humor but when he kept me guessing I knew he was only a loaner. I found his silent strength endearing, like nothing I had seen before. His masculinity was showing and I wanted an encore. We always seemed to miss the joke and it clearly showed, for our time was short and unexposed. I wish him the very best but wish I wasn’t the lesson, of how he is worthy to be loved without exception. 

That fear of loss is a rational one and sometimes love is a gamble. How far are you willing to bet? Bet on yourself, bet on them, bet on the circumstances. I bet on steady love. 

Because sometimes we take these experiences and walk them into a new connection. We muster the vulnerability to open yet again, with no promises of the end. We let ourselves be seen and we let ourselves be held and all of a sudden the world has turned around. Steady love is a force and one that is worthy for you, for me, and for all that believe. 

He holds me in his arms until it’s crystal clear, there simply is no better place for me out there. They say when you find the one you will know and I’ve felt his energy from long ago. He listens and wonders about things he doesn’t understand but always shows up for me. Was this always the plan? I take a deep breath when he enters the room, he always finds me waiting, oh the power of two. Our story has so much left to write, filled with adventure, kids, and so much light. The greatest lesson of all, is how to let myself be loved through it all.