Love hurts.
A phrase I'm sure everyone has heard sometime or another in the span of their lives, however long or short that span might be.
It is a phrase that is wrought with meaning, if you take the time to dig deep and uncover the truth within these simple words.
It was created by those of us who have suffered great pain in their lives caused by either loving someone and losing them, or being lost yourself, whether figuratively, spiritually, or, in all possible meanings of the word, physically.
Love.
What is it to love?
By asking different people you will get different answers. Some say that love is so important it is akin to oxygen. The need for it is so dire that people will do insane things to assure themselves of this pleasure in life. That going a life without it is simply, in a word, hell.
Then again, there is a flip side to every coin, and this is no exception. There are those of us who would argue the point that love is trivial. These thoughts can be backed by scientific proof. After all, is it not possible to bring forth a child no matter your state of mind, or in our case, heart, about a person. The fact that you love someone is simply not a factor to some people. It is a convenience, a privilege. Unfortunately, it is a privilege that some in this world cannot afford to have.
Until several months ago I considered myself to be one of those people, sitting amongst the ranks of those who do not believe in love. I was happy, at least I thought I was... until I met him.
He turned my world upside down right from the start, barging into my world like the crude, brash person he was. I immediately disliked him for it. For his ability to wear his emotions right out on his sleeve, when I was always taught that it was a disgrace to do so. I hated everything about him, he and his ways were so alien to me.
To understand our relationship, you must note the fact that he is... immature, loud, obnoxious, and childish, everything I am not, everything I wish I could be. As these thoughts run though my slowly dimming mind, it now seems to be painfully obvious why I hated him. I was jealous. I still am. I always will be. The fact that I have most come to terms with is that he saved me. Not in a physical sense, but mentally, he has taught me so much in so short a time.
I am quiet, reserved, and extremely arrogant at times. I was ripped away from my childhood at the early age of four. I was to begin my training, for what, I did not know, but I knew it was important. Any of my bad habits were quickly extinguished by the iron fist of my father and the disappointed, yet scornful gaze of my mother.
Anyway, I am getting off track...
The connection between us was instantaneous. Well... most people you asked wouldn't exactly say that it was a good connection, but at the time, that didn't even occur to me.
We soon fell into a repetitive cycle; he would mess up, I would scold and insult him, he would apologize with those pathetic hurt dog eyes, and I would relent. It seemed never-ending, and for some reason, that comforted me at the time, and I did not know why. I would not realize until much later why I needed the familiar cycle. In reality, what I really needed was something to hold on to, something firm that I could cling to, even in my worst moments.
He gave that to me. Freely. Effortlessly. Unknowingly.
And he wouldn't know. Ever.
He would never know of the feelings that I held inside myself for those long months that seemed to drag into years. Each lonely night I would lie awake, wishing only that he understood.
The gaping hole in my midsection leaks blood at a rapidly increasing rate, I can hear terrified screams somewhere above me.
His screams.
The pain from the wound is excruciating, but nothing compared to the pain in my heart, which is multiplied tenfold by bearing witness to the obvious trauma of the one I love. Although I can no longer hear what he is saying, I would guess that he is telling me I am a fool. I know I have done what is right. I have re-paid my debts. A life, for a life.
As I lie here, facing the sky, my eyesight slowly dimming into darkness, the facts all present themselves to me, and I finally see.
I finally know where I stand.
Love hurts?
Yes.
But here is something you might want to take note of.
Its worth it.