Loving You
An Essay
Loving you isn’t always easy. Sometimes you drain me out like rain from the pipes after a long storm that has brought thunder and lighting. Where the sounds of roaring gods and goddesses from the sky haunt me. As though I am leaking through the palms of your hands as you struggle to hold me and keep me intact with you. Sometimes I’m left in a puddle of resentment, only for you to wipe me down, mop me from these marble floors so you can cradle me once more.
Loving you is like honey and tea, soothing for the soul and very comforting after a long day. You’re sweet, gentle, soft and nurturing. You soothe my tired lungs and voice through the simple touch of your hands. You’re words and body contact sweet and warm. Despite the blizzard outside our haven. Your sweetness and warmth of your heart and soul will always nurture me.
Loving you is difficult. Especially when the love feels unrequited at times. When I feel like I’m pushing and pulling for you to stay. It’s like swimming the oceans and seas, hoping a whirlpool of my mind doesn’t swallow me whole. With unanswered questions and overthought scenarios. It’s hard to swim against the high tide, the waves and rips pulling me further down into the dark blue depths of the ocean. My muscles will eventually grow tired, I’ll lose oxygen and thoughts as we keep going and going swimming against the tide.
Loving you makes me safe. Our conversations held in the bathtub, over the dining table and in the comfort of our beds. The way your voice comforts my heart despite my roaring passions burning through my ribcage. Our opinions, thoughts, inner fears and dreams almost mixing together like cookies and cream.
Loving me, loving you, none of it is easy. Our fights, our disagreements, our passions and our opinions are what almost keep us so close yet divided. A large gap between two large mountains and volcanoes waiting to explode and erupt with the good, bad and evil. The arguments we have are because we’re scared or we’re too egoistic to even admit. Our passionate moments where we are brought closer by the nakedness of our bodies ignite us like fire in a cold gloomy night.
The moments where we are left in silence despite the stars and storms rebelling against their natural form for us to be together. Our love is strange, different and almost unknown. Each day I’m learning something different about you, being exposed to your resentment and your intensity to switching the roles where I become your fire in the cold night.
When our love runs out, if it ever runs out, remember our love is like the air we breath. Never always being able to see it, but being able to feel it and it’s warmth through a summer day.
