I sit here thinking deeply. I think of the gentleness that is in me, yet also of the ferocity. How I would not, of sound mind, set out to cause another to experience pain but would, without doubt, stand for the one who is under attack. (I have always favored the under dog).
It’s true. I have experienced loving so deeply, giving so much of myself (as I am certain many have) until there is no more to give, and what has been given is trampled and unappreciated. In fact, in my case, my very life was at risk … and what I thought was love became, for a time, something else.
I thank God for the ability to recover from trauma, for my resiliency and capacity to remain in love even through the darkness. Here I am, finally, loving me. In days gone by I stood for others, today I stand for me … and then, with feet firmly planted, I am able to stand for others. Strong, knowing, able …
I suppose past experiences have benefited me as I am today. I practice being in love, without need for return, for I know that what I need is right inside of me, has been all along. Yes, I finally like me, I love me, and I am number 1 … (touche´ I hear) and so I move forward knowing that despite anothers inability to appreciate that which is in me, as same as that which is in them, is of no importance. I know the truth of it, I will not be swayed.
Although it is a thin line between love and hate, the gap seems vast. It is not, and one day … one will be consumed by the other. Which way do you suppose it will go?