Magic—or rather love—I want someone to convince me it exists. I want someone to convince me I deserve it.
I want to be loved. Not appreciated or desired or in-loved (whatever that means). Not loved for now or loved conditionally. Simply loved.
I want to be loved completely without complete understanding. Loved without expectations. Loved forgivingly. Loved nonsensically. Loved forever.
Still-thinking-of-you-first-ten-years-later kind of love; I-can't-believe-you're-all-mine and life's-more-fun-when-you're-around kind of love; you-can-count-on-me, we'll-always-work-through-it kind of love.
Is it love if we leave it up to fate?
Is it lasting love without that? Is it love if any part of it is temporary or conditional? Is it love if we expect it to sustain itself? Is it love if we find it and never want it to change? Is it love if we leave it up to fate?
Love lives in the ebb and flow—in compromises. Love lives in gasps of breath when nothing else matters. I want nothing-else-matters kind of love.
Not I-can't-live-without-you but I-choose-to-share-my-life-with-you; not I-need-you but I-want-you; not I'll-never-break-your-heart but I'll-never-give-up kind of love.
I want to be somebody's number one choice. I want to never feel like I'm asking too much. From when I wake to when I close my eyes, I want to never have to wonder what I'm worth. Beneath the sun, the moon, and any clouds that temporarily block their light, I want to feel loved.
Love is, after all, a choice we make. With every fork in the road, we bring some things with us and leave others behind. We uphold some promises and break others. And we continually choose, whether consciously or not, what influences our path. Love is choosing a path together.
No matter how convoluted the path, love lives in the choice to walk side by side.
Love is sometimes going left when you'd prefer to go right. Love is a helping hand when you trip and fall. Love is leading knowing you're willing to follow. No matter how convoluted the path, love lives in the choice to walk side by side.
I want someone who wants to walk by my side even when the grass is greener on the other side. Without getting stuck on platitudes, I want someone who finds beauty not in searching for pots of gold at the end of the rainbow but in learning to appreciate the rain.
Magic—or rather love—I want someone to convince me it exists. I want someone to convince me I deserve it. I want someone in whose eyes I can fall in love with myself enough to ask for this and more.
I want the courage to search for love and accept it. I want to believe that looking back at a lifetime of having loved and been loved means more than having escaped unscathed, more than protecting a broken heart, more than anything at all.