Musings
It is all at once a terrifying and wonderful thing to feel this kind of love inside you for another human being after years of trying. I feel like, after the first time, when you first feel that completely reckless, total love of somebody else (generally as a teenager), when it's over you're left searching for the same feeling but with more apprehension because you have been so hurt and wounded. And each time you think you've found it again, that person will just heap more hurt onto your heart, and so you continue on until you feel like it may be impossible to be as in love with somebody as you were with the first one. When you realize that it has finally happened again, it feels like a gift. Like you might finally be able to be yourself again.
Granted, it is a new self. A stronger, more independent-minded self who will tolerate far less than in the past. But it is a better self, a self worth knowing and a self that is finally worth being in love with. Pain and trials will change you, but only for the better, even if it doesn't feel like it at that moment. When you take the lessons learned from your past and put them to good use, that is when you will find it.
Love lies in wait, always, it is there. Sometimes it is just so damn hard to see when you're jaded from the abuse of those who claimed to love you once. And when you finally let go of that resentment, and thank those who hurt you for helping you to be stronger, that is when love is easily seen and accepted.
I'm not saying it isn't a hard process - letting go - or that it was oh so easy for me to do. I still go through spells of pouting and bitterness when I think of those men who used me or mistreated me. But then I think of the love I have found, I think of the lightness I felt in my chest when I was falling in love with him, and I am so glad that they were so horrible. If they weren't, I might never have found him. I might never have had enough of the crying and sleepless nights, and I might never have known what it felt like to lay my head in his chest and fall asleep with no worries.
I once thought that I would never be enough to satisfy anybody. I sincerely thought I would never be beautiful enough, or thin enough, or interesting enough, or sexy enough. That word always plagued my every moment, enough. I would think of ways to fix myself, to make myself better. But now I know it was those men who were not enough for me. The stronger I grew, the more I knew that I would never settle for anything less than happiness, and that they could not give me.
And though I am terrified to lose this love, it is no longer a thought that wakes me from dreaming. For I know that to him, I am enough.
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