From the chapter "Love that just is"
Time
passed. Britney filled my thoughts. Time, with her, passed at a pace
much different than without her. We had been together for two months.
When she was away, moments seemed like hours. Hours seemed like days, and days
were like months. Together, a two hour evening easily passed in moments. I had
not told her that I loved her. I had, through my actions, given every
indication of my feelings for her. She had my love. I waited to see what she
would do with it.
My
mother’s love for my father began to make sense. Love that just was. “There’s
love that’s developed,” she had told me. “And there’s love that just
is.”
“Please
explain,” I asked.
“Well,
Marc, I believe that love can be developed. Two people meet. He thinks
she is cute. She feels the same way. He asks her out on a date. She accepts.
They go on a date, and nothing goes wrong. Because nothing goes wrong, when he
asks again, she agrees. They go on a second date. And nothing goes wrong. And
then, they go on a third date. And because nothing went wrong, they are now dating.
Exclusive. Committed. And, time passes. And, to keep her convinced that he
cares for her, and because his family encourages him, he buys her a ring. They
are now engaged. And time passes. And they get married in June. Because that’s
what everyone does. And then, because it’s what married people do, they have
children. And now, they are a family. Because two people met, went on a date, and
nothing went wrong. That, Marc, is
love that is developed.”
Then,
she continued, “Then, there is love that just is. The love that can’t
always be explained. The love that, according to those that have it, can’t ever
be anything but what it is. Endless. Instead of sitting home and imagining the
next ‘girls night out’, you sit at home and anxiously wait for him coming home
from work. Because you can’t fathom spending an evening without him. That
person doesn’t give you reason to live. That person is your life.
Love that just is.”
“And
Marc, when they’re gone, like your father, nothing on or of this earth can ever
replace them. Ever. You choke. You try to breathe. You suffer. And time passes.
It’s difficult. They provide you with your breath, your heart resides in their
chest, and theirs resides in you. They are your heartbeat. And,
because your heart dies with them, and you remain, you suffer a life of loving yourself.
With a heart inside of you that belongs to someone else, and is incapable
of loving others. Because that heart, Marc, loves only you.” - Scott Hildreth, Broken People
Broken People, by Scott Hildreth
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