‘Love isn’t in the touch.
Love is in the wait.’
Very recently, I came across an old couple living two blocks from my place. Talking to them, I discovered that they’d been married for some twenty-one years but they’d met about half a century ago. The man had been in the navy and they only got married after he left the waters.
They’d always wanted to get married and they did. It came late but love didn’t peter out.
Stories like these make me question everything.
How is it mortally possible for someone to hold onto nothing for so long, believing blindly in an entity, a force that may or may not exist and letting that one feeling of belonging that he or she felt on a dying Saturday afternoon in a riverside car park with their special person consume and subsume them, such that the endless wait is something that they are no longer afraid of?
The very long question has a very short answer.
“Love is in the wait”.
I believe that somewhere, at some point, true love does exist and no matter who you are and what you believe, it finds you, climbs on your shoulder and builds castles of dreams in your nose until you can’t stop sneezing love.
But love isn’t the piece of bread your buy from the everyday shop. It finds you, touches you, moves you and cracks you. After that, it flies away, leaving you open and bleeding. It is then up to you, to take your journey, move universes like pebbles and look under them for it. And when you are done scouring every planet for it, it comes and sits on your shoulder, reminding you exactly why the most beautiful things can’t be bought.
What is love if you’ve not bled for an eternity holding on to a rope of life that you name hope?
What is love if you’ve not counted days, weeks, months and not let the years count you out?
‘Nothing’. Not a thing.
Love is sitting in different hemispheres and thinking about the first Sunday you went for an ice-cream, together, tearing up at how you can’t touch each other and holding on to a faith that soothes your pain because you somehow know, deep down, in every vein and artery that no matter what, someday, in some other time zone, you will meet and it will be perfect. Without this faith, without this belief, there is nothing in this world.
Love isn’t supposed to be easy or difficult. It is supposed to be felt.
No love is unrequited, my dear. It is just not right for the Time.
And if you hold on for a millisecond more, something will give way, somewhere in this universe and the fluttering of your wings will drown out the sound of despair in your tumultuous heart.
Just remember, Love is real.
It is all in the wait.
It is all in the wait.
Picture Courtesy : goodoldfashionedmaybe