All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Our Love
I guess you could say we were in love. Though the timing wasn't right. But then again when is it ever. Our love was like that of any naive teenagers. Messy, rushed, and reckless. Especially reckless. We loved without remorse. We loved violently. Still we believed our love surpassed that of others. Ours was more pure, more........ genuine.
Of course we known now that couldn't be further from the truth. The violent love we held was destructive in ways that could be seen by the naked eye. Because behind that love hid a resentment for each other. With that resentment came a guilt that we attempted to cover up with more love. That never worked too well. We both knew it but we ignored it because, well, we were in love.
Of all the words I woulduses to describe that love, regret would not be one of them. I fail to see how you could regret something that ultimately helped you grow. At the time it wasn't beneficial, no. In fact it was one of the most problematic things in our lives. But reminiscing now, there isn't a single moment I would replace or erase. Because with the pain came progress. And with the risk came an odd sense of relief.
What was different about this love we had, is our acknowledgment that though superior, this love of ours was flawed. And knowing that, we abandoned all expectation and learned how to genuinely enjoy the moment we were living in. We lived in our todays with no promise of spending our tomorrows together. We planned our futures without each other, while silently hoping we would be a part of each other's.
What we called love now holds a different name to me. Infatuation. I was your escape and you were mine. And though we didn't necessarily enjoy each others company, we craved it. Because if we were together, that meant we didn't have to be with anyone else. We called it love but looking back I'm realizing it was a scapegoat if anything.
I like to think we were soulmates. And I know what you’re thinking, “If you’re soulmates, why aren’t you together?” I can see why you’d think that. Our visions of love has long been blinded by a connotation of the word that counteracts it’s reality. Sometimes your soulmate isn’t who you end up with forever. Sometimes it’s someone you meet in passing. Someone who’s put in your life simply to teach you pain. To feel a pain so deep that the thought of invincibility will never cross your mind.
Regardless, I like to think we were, we are soulmates. And like any good soulmate, I learned from you. I learned that love is subjective. For some it is the inability to be without your significant other. For others it’s the ability to grow with another human being. For me, it was the ability to learn from you. I thought I knew the basics of love, But you came along and showed me many different definitions of the word.
I also like to think that though still significant, I’m over this fleeting emotional maze we had going on. I like to think that I’ve learned from it and move on. But I catch myself wondering if that’s true or just another way to treat my fragile ego. If you called me right now, this piece would never get done. I like to deny it but I’m still at your beck and call. I guess that’s what love does.
I pushed you away. My attempt at liberation from the hold you had on me. I refused to be a slave to the way I felt and in attempting to mask my identity, I became someone else. Someone that I myself could not for the life of me decode. The challenge was enticing to you, though.
I think you always found a sort of pride in showing me that I’m not as heartless as I come off. I’d tell you over and over that our relationship was detrimental to you mentally. But over and over you'd insist that you could be my saving grace.
Looking back I can’t distinguish wether you were my saving grace, or my Achille’s Heel. You rebuilt my broken frame but the more you fixed me, the more power you had to break me. I’d always considered myself a pretty strong person. I had managed to take everything life threw at me with a grain of salt. But the second we connected our broken souls, I knew you would be the first person in my life to be able to cause any damage to me.
I was okay with that though. I’d always accepted the fact that you had the power to break me. And at the end of the day I would have been honored to be destroyed by you. I would have been gifted to be broken by my mentor. The heartbreak, though excruciating, would be just another lesson, and I always loved learning from you.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.