Once upon a time,
They loved with their whole being, physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. When they were near what they loved their knees grew weak, their heart beat too fast, their ears grew red and their tongue clumsy.
This love was not always pleasant, often it hurt like a dagger to the stomach, a hand twisting their guts, clenching their heart. It sapped them of strength, stole energy, and bred worry and anger as they were frustrated in their attempts to love and do right by that love in an unloving place.
They never forced their love on its object. Their love lived with rejection looming overhead, and rejected it was, often. For love is not seen or accepted the same way in each heart, even a love as sincere as this.
They never stopped offering love, giving it away if it was accepted with even a hint of joy, for love can grow even in rocky soil.
For love brings sore hearts, frustrated reason, exhausted bodies. But the joy of love is inescapable, its power greater than any hate. The hope of love, that is something to live for. The love of family, friends and lovers, something worth dying for.
I just hope to keep loving as I keep living. For one day, love might not only be accepted, but find more love welcoming it home.