I have spent the past few years in self-discovery… the first thing I did was get sober. Once that was taken care of everything else started falling into place. I let go of all of the people and things that I believed represented me. It was all an illusion.
Once I was able to clearly look at my life, I realized it was time to live it. People have praised me for “coming out” … I didn’t “come out” … I just became Rob. There was no need for me to make an announcement about anything happening in my life. I was a miserable, unhealthy man for many years… today, I’ve let that go. I am free to love who I choose and have no reason to explain it to anyone. Love is Love… I release the past and accept a love that is perfect for me now. I wrote this for my partner, Keith who showed me the meaning of love.
Love is Love
We walk the fine line
Between insanity and love
Love is love
We are told
We are sinful
But what of the people
Who cast us aside
Turn their backs on us
Treat us with their cold whispers and burning hot stares
Like we are a knife
Straight into the heart of the bible
And the “holy ghost.”
What God would toss out his own “children” just for who they love Jesus hung out with 12 guys and a hooker… Isn’t he more like me than the people doing things in his name?
Love is love.
We are the ones in the pouring rain
Who dance and laugh and smile
Even though sometimes it seems
That the world is against us.
we are different
beautiful; we stand strong
against the names
love is love
but hate is hate
what is left
for those who feel both
and yet neither?
We play their little games
Living in their world where
Laws and rules
That are supposedly in the best interest
Of the people
Bind us to ourselves
We can cry, feel, dream
We can love, care, support each other
Just like the next person
Who may be classified as “normal”
We are not the devil
We are not the problem
We are hope
We are human
Love is love
Love is want. Love is need. Love is impossibly imperfect.
Love always pays the bills on time but forgets your anniversary. It gets you frozen yogurt on the way home but leaves it in the car. It doesn’t write you poems or give romantic speeches, but when you’re sad, it suddenly says that one right thing. It rarely thinks to buy you flowers but always thinks to plug your phone into the charger at night.
Love is forgiving. Love lets you get away with a lot. It grants forgiveness before you ask but often makes you say sorry anyway because it’s good for you to be humble. Love knows it will hurt you too. Love fails, time and again, but believes every next minute is a new chance to get it right.
Love is forgetful.
It forgets old words and old wounds… and even when it remembers, it also remembers to stay kind. Love has the worst fight of your life with you and then, right after, shares a Diet Coke and splits a cold pizza. It will leave the last Pop Tart for you.
Love understands your weaknesses.
It doesn’t mock that you are scared of driving on highways or you get cranky if you’re hungry. It knows you have to drink your cappuccinos really, really hot. It will expect you will complain about your burnt tongue later. Love will be patient as you cut the tags off every shirt you wear because they scratch your neck unbearably. It will be quiet when you don’t feel like talking. It will laugh uproariously at your lame jokes during a party to save you from embarrassment.
Love is loyal.
Love is your cheerleader. It believes in you. It goes along with your crazy ideas of writing a book, becoming a chef, launching an art business and tries its best to help you achieve your visions. It will edit poorly written first chapters, eat inedible crème brûlée and gasp amazedly at your blobs of paint on canvas. It doesn’t hold it against you when you fail. It encourages you. But because you need it sometimes, it will tell you to stop when you are being insufferable and cut short your pity party.
Love changes perceptions of beauty.
Love is fond of love handles and stretch marks. Love strokes your grey hair and remarks how distinguished it makes you look. Love sings, “I like big butts and I cannot lie” to your widening derriere. It knows that wrinkles and crow feet are a testament to a life lived together. Love teaches you to find the ordinary, extraordinary.
Love is not a substitute for reality.
It doesn’t ask you to live in a more fantastic version of it because love lives real life. And in real life, love knows, there are good days and bad days. And a whole slew of mediocre ones. Love gets through all of them, sometimes with style and pizzazz, other times with angst and bitterness. But it gets through.
Love flips your idea of humanity upside down.
You think you know people, and then you see what they will do for love’s sake, how far they will stretch the limits of themselves to care for the one they love, and it makes you swallow, hard. Love will make you witness divinity.
Love is fluid.
It changes with time in its expression and manifestation. It will be a spark, a raging fire, or flutters in your gut one day. Years later, it will be a steady burning ember, a sense of stability as solid as a rock and all flutters can usually be attributed to indigestion. Love will bring you Tums before you ask.
Love doesn’t always make you happy.
But it makes you better. Happy too, but also unhappy. Because love knows that its central function in your life is to help you grow. Growth hurts. Every day, love changes you to become a version of yourself you didn’t know existed. Expanded. Stretched somehow.
Love doesn’t ‘break’ your heart. It splits it open so that more of what you need can enter.
Love is a choice.
You make that choice every single day, every single minute. Love is sacrifice, compromise, tolerance and a whole bunch of other scary words. It wants to leave you sometimes, but it always remains. It wants to kill you sometimes but then imagines the subsequent loneliness. It turns away from you only to turn back again. It buries itself into the very core of you, so you don’t know where it begins or ends.
Love is a paradox.
It is awkward and graceful. It is forced and natural, kind of terrible and absolutely hilarious. It is restful. It is wild. It is hurtful and healing. It is gentle and harsh. It is confusion and clarity. It strengthens you and makes you vulnerable. It ties you down and helps you fly. It is as rare as a pearl and as common as breathing.
Love is fierce.
It is very often decidedly mundane, mind-numbingly ordinary and easy to overlook, but still, if you know how to look at it, it’s really quite astonishing. Love is beautiful, it is necessary, and if you allow it, instinctual, but it is never what you think it will be.