Had oats for breakfast.
Ordered food for early dinner.
Finished a tiny little surprise project for a friend.
Loved doing it. Smiled through the entire thing. Love lives here.
I’ve learnt a thing or two about love being single ‘my entire life’ – meaning no significantly serious relationship I can think of in retrospect … no matter how much tears left my eyes. And yes, MUCH, not many. (This makes me want to laugh out loud, honestly.)
The one thing, though, that recently just popped up in some conversations was ‘loving someone from afar’. Years ago I met a guy. I was intrigued. We were drawn to each other, but we kept it professional because that’s how we rolled. (in our minds this was a whole other level apparently as discussed years later) It took me a long time to figure out that I really liked this guy, loved the man in fact but our roads split … we remained friends. We remained friends though, the type of friends who wouldn’t speak for months to years and pick up as if … I loved him still; it was a quiet peaceful kinda love that brought a smile to my face. A love that had me ecstatic to hear he’s happy. It was lovely to know that he was happy … with an underlying ping of sadness for myself; he was happy. He knew; I knew.
Another one. Also years ago. It started like one of those romance books where I hated his guts. Just to wake up one morning and be smitten. But I couldn’t and it shouldn’t coz he was tied to someone else. Friendship. They broke up later; we remained friendship. I loved that boy. He’s gone now. He knew; I knew.
These are not ‘feel sorry for me’ or ‘seeking sympathy’ stories, it’s my life lessons and I love them. To experience love is such a beautiful blessing. Also know that they both loved me in which ever way they did. I knew it. I felt it. I was always safe with them and I was loved and hugged and friendship was celebrated. Friendship is more valuable to me sometimes, especially in the times when it is intentionally chosen.