I’ve taken to getting my inspiration from the prompts and ideas from The Daily Post here on wordpress. Well today’s (or yesterday’s) prompt was UNCONVENTIONAL LOVE. The challenge they posed was: ” Over the weekend, we explored different ways to love. Today, tell us about the most unconventional love in your life.”
Hmmm.. I had thought about trying to write about it, but it was one of those topics that caught me in a bind and I didn’t quite know how to define what should be an easy answer to the question.
I guess it all boils down to one’s definition of what is “conventional”, and then find the exact opposite of that definition to come up with UNconventional. But is there anything conventional about the powerful emotion that is love?
What is the unconventional love in my life? To me this would be loving something or someone and feeling a deep hatred or loathing for that same object of your affection. Writing that is puzzling to me because I know what it means that I don’t. It befuddles me to go back to the words I had written. That is what’s unconventional about it. It doesn’t make sense because it is not what we expect as normal.
They say you cannot love something and yet not want to have it or not want to be with that person. You cannot love someone and hate that person, too. There lies the reluctance in me to even dig deep for it because perhaps the reality of it is that it is no longer love.. perhaps it’s morphed into hate. Perhaps it’s unconventional because it is not what I think it is, or it is something else beyond what it should be.
My heart no longer feels warm and fuzzy like it used to now that I am trying to figure it out. It’s just a long and empty humming in my ear. I smile at certain things that remind me of what used to be, but the reality of where I am now and how I feel stirs up so much anger in my heart. So much so that I cannot see myself going back to that state of not having to fight off the anger and the hatred. The shimmer and shining moments have all been eclipsed by a heavy darkness.
Most days I just focus on other things and count my blessings. I think of how some have taken my side, who have chosen me despite my failures and my imperfections and my mistakes. I think about having been chosen not out of love but out of a sense of a need to keep things normal and of keeping the peace — but does it matter why? For all my failings, I was given a safe haven where others had thought it better to shut me out of their world.
There, the anger surfaces again. Is it unconventional love or just anger?
I wish I could write about something that would speak of a giddy lightness of the heart… of smiles and giggles and happy thoughts. But that is all part of the past.
Unconventional love it is. Or was. I believe the proper tense is the latter : was.