The Strongest Morphine

There are days when you just don’t think about it. Or at least, not too much.

Love can be the best thing. When you wake up, the face or name of that special person you singled out may be the first thing that registers in your head. It can be more than one name or one face, actually, because the term can be loosely defined these days, and romance isn’t always necessarily about exclusivity in some cases.

You want to be better in every possible way, even when you know that you’re accepted and adored just as you are. You learn to give without expecting anything in return, and stretch past your limits, but don’t mind at all, because you’re after your partner’s happiness. You hope, and you brave the unknown together, because there’s that understood arrangement, a deal that didn’t require too many words. You speak your own language, move to the beat of your own drum, surrender repeatedly to reach that ecstatic spasm. The world doesn’t exist for you in those pure, powerful moments and understandably so.

But things change. Your life changes. You don’t see the old things the same way, but know that some bonds are just unbreakable. That’s no excuse to take them for granted, but you do, anyway. It may be because of that new world you’re excitedly discovering, or the alluring new obsessions that presented themselves to you. You realize that you’re the now-or-never type, a person who knows how being deprived feels, so you make up for lost time. You don’t think about love. You feel it, or you assume you do, but you do get confused sometimes. So you try not to think about it. At least, not too much.

But when you feel your life spinning out of control, you do wait for someone to step up and become what you need. Sometimes there’s that need to just lose yourself in others, to give yourself a better perspective. Or just, you know, to get off. You’re not proud of it, although in some cases, you may be, but you live for the moment that way and you’re not thinking of love at all. You get conflicting signals, and you send some too, you have to admit. You don’t believe that you’re this way because your zodiac sign, or the palm reader, said so. But you find it funny that their descriptions of you, and your relations, are uncannily true.

You still believe in love, even when some events have made you a little cynical. You’re happy for those new lovers you see, but you’re wondering how they’ll fare after just a few years together. You also wonder how those you’ve slept with are doing, sometimes, so you check up on some of them through their floating journals or profile pages. You try to understand why they need to return to some semblance of ordinariness, and you do, eventually. You understand how to love just a person’s body, or company, during those fleeting minutes you’re intimately and dangerously close.

You remember falling in love more than once, but even when you acknowledge that some things aren’t the same anymore and there’s no turning back, you rediscover those old bonds. You change, you try to be more giving, and don't think about the eventual disagreements. True love, you know now, is total acceptance and sacrifice. But you don’t really care about the definitions too much. You’re just glad that you know when it’s there and how to give it.

You worry about the future, like you worry about everything else, but the happy endings will come. Just don’t think about it too much.