For those that loved me for just one night, or barely a day; for those that loved me for a season and those that loved me for a reason, too. For those heady, halcyon loves of my youth and as well the calmer, platonic loves of more recent years. For the requited, the unrequited and the loves of which I never dared to dream. For the passions that lasted barely hours and the passions that endure still, never spoken, the words never uttered… this is for you.
The heart is but a simple thing, yet impossible to fathom. It is a feral and vulnerable beast. It is capable of immeasurable endeavours and, unchecked, will lead one into wild and dangerous territories. When the quieting and reasonable voice of the head speaks its fundamental truth, the heart sings loud to the soul and, more often than not, we will dance to that oh so seductive tune.
And so the heart is an unreliable barometer of love. My heart has been broken, yet it has gone on to love again, harder and more fiercely than before, each and every time. My greatest loves have ended with little more than a sigh of resignation; others induce tears and the listening of sad songs even now.
So perhaps it is the soul where love truly lies?
For those that cheated, those that lied and those that lead me astray; the ones that played me, betrayed me and the very special few that thought that maybe they could break me – it was still a love of sorts, was it not?
Love is a thing that can never be owned, but can only be given. It’s power lies in the giving. Withholding or retraction only diminishes the power of love. So give, with whole heart and mind, all the love you that have. Alcohol and music are there to negate any unfavourable results. Trying to protect the heart only makes it more vulnerable – like any muscle it must be exercised and pushed, and, above all, risked. Life without heart is hardly a life at all and a battered heart is surely a sign of a life well lived.
And so, my lovers, the persistent and the brief; the meaningful and the moments of madness; those true loves and those just in lust; the lovers that never quite were, the loves that never evolved beyond meaningful looks across a marriage; the ones that hurt, the loves that made me laugh; the loves that should have been, could have been, would have been… the love for a different time, a different place…
I thank you all for the love.
And you know I love you. Don’t you?