Perfect Love: Inamorata
I talk about love more than I talk about anything else on FKJR. I am love’s fan, a true admirer of the various expressions of intimate feelings. I sit back often and dream about life with “the one”, filling in my fantasies with the idiosyncratic details of a highly particular brain. She isn’t someone I can explain in one sitting. I’ve tried. She is a most elusive entity. She is 23 years worth of knowledge and desire wrapped into a singular thought. She is everything I’ve ever wanted and absent of everything I’ve learned to dislike. I sometimes close my eyes and see her in front of me, leaning in for a kiss before a roaring fire. I feel her body lying next to mine on a hammock on a lazy June afternoon. I hear her telling me she loves me beneath the sheets, moonlight illuminating the windows…
I’m reminded of my past and present because of how excited I am to attain my future. Earlier this summer I realized I had never been in love. Due in part to my immaturity, self righteousness, and selfishness as a younger man, I was never able to step outside of myself enough in order to truly place parts of me into anyone else. I chose to be proud and engaging, seeking instead things which I could not reconcile. I searched for reasons not to like people. I wanted perfection but I hadn’t begun to define it for myself.
Only twice have I approached the gates of total dedication and even then I held on to my pride. I tried to break up with them, cut my losses, save face and limit damage. I never sold out to anyone. Never saw a woman as irreplaceable. I often thought of marriage or some later commitment, but even then I was steeped in my old ways of arrogance and an unyielding spirit.
I didn’t even understand my callousness until recently. How I can care for someone and almost instantaneously disengage myself from them. It is of course a defense mechanism, a way to protect myself. But it is something that if unchecked is more insidious. See, my heart is a steel trap. I’m transparent, I’m communicative, but I am not trusting. I do not give my emotions to people easily. I do not allow myself to be in a position of weakness or exhibit dependent behavior. I’m not a big fan of allowing myself to be vulnerable or exposing my Achilles’ heel. I’ve never let a woman become permanent. As awesome as it sounds, I have never expressed to a woman that I would be irrevocably altered if she left my side.
I’d move on.
I pray for a love that both myself and the woman are aware that we can’t move on. Call it a silly fantasy or the musings of a young hopeful boy, but this is what I crave. I want to be jealous, crazy, completely worked up over a woman. I want to leave her company and have her call me asking to come back because she misses me. I want everything I own to be hers. I want that Corinthians love. That “a man’s body belongs to his wife” love. I want to miss her so much that it hurts. Love her so much it is tangible.
I’ll get it too.