Sometimes It Hurts To Love You

The total love I feel for you . . . goes beyond the language of ours—

emotions inside me exist without words, that I only liken to feelings

of the flesh both pleasurable and not.

For tears of joy cause my breast to lift high in rejoicing the ecstasy I realize

I experience but yet, my throat tightens and aches at the thoughts of

this blessing.

But now I lift my head from the lacey down pillow, and catch my reflection

in the glass: I remembered the night before and ruefully noticed the

bruise on my mouth. Yes, sometimes it hurts to love you.

A few years have passed, as I gaze into the incubator and see your tender

curls and plumb cheeks; how quickly I forgot the difficult labor and

torn birth canal.

It seems as though only yesterday that you needed to leave the nest, and find

a life of your own—if only you hadn’t slammed out for the last time in a

huff, instead of saying “good-bye.”

Tears slid down my cheek as I watched you struggle—the plug of your

respirator in my hand; I love you so much, but in your pain I felt the

pain of letting you go.

With growth of the new, come death of the old. The emerging of the new

pushing roughly through a tunnel surely to be cold, and stretching the

walls of the known can cause us discomfort at first.

So late in Life I turned to You to find a better road to travel. The path was

over-grown with brambles and rocks, that anyone would struggle to

reach his destination…with only a hope of an unconditional Love.

But Love is born, nonetheless, with delirious spasms of ecstasy and pangs of

remorse—to feel the joy and sting of wondrous love is a part of sharing the purpose:

To Be.

So It’s tattered and torn, bleeding, bruised and broken: we drag ourselves to the mirage of hope to find the love of ourselves in others.

Site Created by RebelWebMaster