The joy of loving you (Far away)
- 22 Posts
- Age 18
If people were feelings, you’d be shame. You that I love so much, you that reminds me of and brings me the warmth of love, you’d represent nothing but shame and disgust. I’d still love you, throughout your faults and wrongness, throughout all you are and shouldn’t be. I do love you because only with the thought of you I feel that I could love. Only when thinking of you I feel soft and weak, like a real human being that lives off happiness and hunts for love. If I’d be a feeling I’d be ambition- if you can call that a feeling at all, but for now we will. I’d be the one aspiring to the heights, perpetually amazed only by the sky and the glory, never by the solid grounds and the present time. I’d be a cold burst of wind howling towards something high and big while you’d be living purposeless, fulfilling your life the way everyone else does, the way that everyone should, maybe even I. Through all this world’s challenges and obstacles, you’ll go smooth and relaxed, you will let yourself be as you are, as the time and circumstances shape you, walking down the same paved way, the one your parents and life laid down in front of you. That’s why you’d be shame, and I’d be so far away from you even though you’re the only one that makes me feel natural and human. There is no shame in following a destiny, but there is shame in not dreaming, in going wherever the wind takes you, instead of trying and working, finding a purpose, no matter how little, no matter how average. There is shame in not finding your own meaning, in solely drifting, and I hate you for doing so... I hate you as much as I love the feeling of looking at you- those butterflies and that warmth, feeling like a 12 year old girl, an innocent girl in love, such a tender, sensitive being ready to give all for a few shameful words. Loving you was and is all that ever reminds me of me- if I didn’t love you this much, I’d be lost. A girl built up from scratch with no past, no family and no experience. With no childhood. You are my childhood, you are all I have dreamed of yet you look nothing like my dream. I love you from far away, in all your shame and all my distance. If there would be a moment in time when all I am and all I consist of wouldn’t exist, I’d love you so generously, I’d crave your closeness and your looks. If for one second I could forget about myself and what matters to me the most, I’d be so madly in love with you, as if we were of one world, as if we weren’t different from one another one bit. Maybe I’d even show you all my love quotes and fantasies, all always about you. You are my childhood, my youth, my ’at home’ feeling, the memory of my human self. You are my essence, even though you are shame, and there is no other face than yours that I’d love to see more in this world before I go to sleep, alone in my apartment, grasping on to that feeling you used to give me. That feeling I feel in traces now when I see you. The shame to my ambition, the stinging torn of my blooming times, it is over- my love for you ceases to search for your looks, our paths have officially found completely different directions. We are as good as strangers now, which hurts me as much as it frees me. You and i are two opposite worlds- yours is down here and mine in up there, somewhere, where I want it to be. That is the main difference between us: you want what you get and I get what I want. I wish I had wanted you though, I wish I still did; then at least all this love would make sense, and I’d be happy looking at your pictures, dedicating pages to your hellos. This way I love a ghost, something abstract, not you, but the feeling of you, the thought of you, the thought of that adorable essay I wrote about you, the one I always dreamed of you reading. It’s such a shame for me wanting anything more than just distantly loving you, it’s so aversive to me to even think about your lips on mine, yet I love you, I love you without needing you. I need just the memory of you, and a memory is something I’ll always have.
If you are something to me I’d call you my memory, the memory of my first love. The testimony of my youth. I’d call you all things beautifully ugly, I’d hate you as much as I’d love you. I’d proclaim you the beginning of my growing up, I’d make you my everlasting sunshine. The picture of you, the memory of you tingles my heart, it makes me truly smile, it makes me feel warm. You are like the Sun to me; all you do is cure and heal, yet too much of you brings pain and an unbearable urge to escape.
Stay my loving memory. There is shame in you, but I love you that way. I don’t care for you, i am not in love with you, but I love you somehow. In everything you’re not and i am lies my history, my metamorphosis and my rise. Everything you never could be to me, i learned to be to myself. All my weakness towards you became my biggest strength. I love you, I love you for giving me a heart ache, I love you for being my dream, I love you for making me love and desire, I love you for giving me inspiration and fantasy, I love you for making me even more different, I love you for you and for myself too. Despite lacking in everything I wanted, you became my love. Love. Love. Love. All that humans aspire to, you gave that feeling to me. Thank you.
If you’d be a feeling, you’d be shame. If I’d be a feeling, I’d be ambition. And in spite of it all, against all odds, thousands of kilometers away, even though I’ll never see you again, I love you- youthfully, innocently, naively, wholeheartedly.