Heart Sweat

Notes. Hm. I like this. I like it here. I think I'll stay a minute. I don't know if I will make any sense, or if I am supposed to. I don't know if I will be profound, or what that is. If this is a think piece than I am Einstein. But it's not, and I'm not. But it might be. Anyways. I'm thinkin' about people. Thinkin' about you guys again. Why do people shed me with love at a level higher than I (at least, often) deserve? Is it a sense of duty? Is it because they think someone might be watching? Why do I love people when they sometimes don't love me back, at least, not in the way that I want them to? Is it because I am trying to impress someone? Maybe sometimes. Definately sometimes. I think thats okay too. My font just changed. Not for effect though. It was an accident. It was bothering me. What is that invisible line that connects me and you. I'm not being corny. I'm being serious. If cornyness were a word, and that word were some by product of saying something sincere then what a splendid stigma indeed. If that is even what that would be. I only pretend to be smart. And I usually don't even do that much.

I really don't know much. I do know that a life without love is not much of a life at all. It is all that matters to me. Relationships. I could care less how much money I have if I didn't have anyone to spend it with. I am you and we are each other. This isn't some hippy B.S., or maybe it is, but I wouldn't want it any other way.

Any religion I have ever studied has pointed to this same truth. That truth is that we are here to love and to experience love. And that love is not a feeling. The most joyous, lasting feelings we can have are side effects of love. So what is then? An action? Is it a pelvic thrust? That is disgusting. It is definately not. That is just another joyous side effect. Side effects. That's it. My focus has been all wrong. I have been focusing on the side effect. Trying to duplicate the feeling of sacrifice with a cheap thrill or by creating a false sense of being by trying to duplicate a side effect of love. Which is adrenaline. It's a rush.

I don't need a girl to love. I can't have a girl until I learn to love. I try so hard to love. I try. I glorify and fantasize the trying. I want to love everyone else and I want everyone to love me. I just don't want to love myself. This creates problems. I wanna go through the roof without hitting the ceiling. I have tried to condense the side effects of love, then water them down, for good measure of course, and eat em. Doesn't work. I promise. It really doesn't. You'll go to sleep loving smoke, or cig, or show, or carpet or numbness or freaking lamp and you wake up alone loving nothing and no one. Especially not yourself. Myself.

Ahhh but good news. There is such good news. Such wonderfully exquisite news that it makes me want to give you a hug and never let go. I don't even care who you are. At all. The good news is that it is not too late for me to love myself. Not too late at all. If you try to love everyone else, often times at your own expense, by imitating the side effects of love through instant gratification and then telling people what you think they would like to hear, then that is not love at all. That is just trickery. but that doesn't matter any more.

I am not wondering why you love ME any more. I am wondering why I don't love myself. I am wondering why you don't love me more. I think it's cause I'm lazy. but either way. I love myself right now. i love myself for writing this. I love myself for having the awareness to say that I need to love myself more. I love myself for having a faint idea of what love is. At least what it is to me. To me, love is a decision. It is a decision that every other decision you make stems from. It is integrity. It is sacrifice. It is doing something for someone to make them feel good not to make you look good. It is secret. It is quite. It is riviting and it will shake you to the very core. It is that gentle pat on the back and it is that cold hard reality. It is whatever it needs to be. It is anything that is good and it is all that matters.

I pretend to know so much about love but where is the evidence? I don't think you can rate the amount of love you have with the amount of girls you have had physical or emotional encounters with. I am not a pimp. I'm not a player. I'm not a gangster. I'm not a stud. I'm not smooth. I'm alone because I don't love myself as much as I love anyone who I want to be with. So they can't love me. It's gotta be the most painful thing in the world.

This isn't a depressing note. This is an honest note. And where there is honesty, there can be closure. I am Taylor Spainhower and I love myself. I even love that I am so worried about not being the best person that I can that I completely shut down for a long time. Because I am still here. And I still know where and Who to turn to help me love myself. It is the only way for me. And I love that. I set it up that way. He is love. And I am going to start letting Him in. Thanks for reading that sparatic banter.

I LOVE YOU. AND I LOVE ME TOO.