Can I Talk About That Time I Fell In Love Again..?

I’ve sat back and reflected on the chain of events that have occurred over the last few weeks and concluded that it must be Love’s doing. I’m convinced that Love has this unique hold on me that when not looking, I’d find myself doing the exact opposite of what I said I wouldn’t do. The funny thing about it is that I can never quite pin-point what happened to get me to do it. That’s only because it disguised itself as second nature, causing me to operate out of habit with no thought whatsoever. Love. You clever bastard you.

So I guess I’ll put this into perspective instead of speaking vaguely about what I’m essentially eluding to. Besides, I’m working on being more transparent on the Internet just as I am in reality.

The Story

They say “Love will make you do some crazy things,” and I legit found myself considering the unthinkable, and what could also quite possibly be thee most craziest thing according to society’s standards. All for “him.” The boyfriend-who’s-not-my-boyfriend-this-time-but-a-boyfriend-from-way-back-when. The vessel that housed that euphoric feeling of happiness I had never felt before and couldn’t get enough of. The one who…..ok, you get it. Anyway, his name is Waybach Wen.

I don’t know what it was this time, but Waybach was magical this go ’round. I couldn’t cut him off if I wanted to. After just a few days of silence I’d be given a platform to voice my frustrations on and actually be heard. And then “poof”. It’s like nothing ever happened. Most of the time an apology never followed; unless I initiated it. And then the feeling was back like cooked crack!

It wasn’t until a few months ago when I realized it wasn’t “him” that I was chasing, but a familiar feeling I recognized one night. It snuck up on me like a sinus infection in the summer time, and I legit perked up like “Hey! I know you!” And from then on I was hooked. Ready to go the lengths of the earth to get a taste of that Feeling again for however long I was allowed. It didn’t matter that our time together felt like jail visitation,- as brief and spaced out as they were- because the excitement leading up to the initial visit was…everything.

Waybach was my pusher. He couldn’t have been anything else! He had the best drug in town, and I was his number one customer. The equivalent to a crack-head, I was ready to get a bus pass to travel to any part of this huge city if that’s what it took, just to get whatever he had on hand to last me for the week. My heart hadn’t been touched like that in so long that I forgot about the initial time I had ever felt like that. It seems as though Waybach was just the gatekeeper, standing between me and that “Feeling” getting together again; the “Feeling” that I’d get so wrapped up in that often times I didn’t recognize him when I came down. Only because I knew the “Feeling” better than I had known him.

And just as my chase became a habit causing me to put up with stuff that I didn’t deserve, I discovered the Addict. Subsequently my need to encounter the “Feeling” again virtually forced me to learn how to function with Insecurity and Trust Issues, two of the most hated individuals in the relationship industry currently, and came as a result of this new discovery. These two beings became my besties, checking up on me daily to reassure me that they were there for me and was down to keep anybody at arm’s length just to protect me. They even introduced me to a tall guy named Wall Up who likes to stand in front my heart from time to time. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to have protection every day, but with my heart being height-deficient, it can get kind of difficult to see who’s coming. So naturally she barely has any visitors because she’s not able to open the door for anyone.

Well, anyway. My dear friends, as protective as they are, hipped me to the fact that my pusher had another customer who suffered from the same addiction as I did. “How could this be?” you ask, especially when the “Feeling” only recognized me? I toyed with that question so long that a turf war for his heart ensued. So long until I found myself face-to-face with the addict and the pusher himself. Somehow my weakness managed to find the strength to co-sign on the idea of a conference. What I didn’t know was that I’d be attending a sacrificial ceremony where I’d be offering my whole heart for half of his.

Love was there too, perched on the dashboard just swinging its legs in satisfaction at how beautifully this all came together. The Fein. The Addict. And Waybach, the Pusher. A joyous event for Love, yet a painful one for me. I could’ve help but think that  the “Feeling” I had been chasing was in cahoots with Love all along. Nah. Love wouldn’t do this. “It’s a GOOD thing!” I’ve said this to myself over and over.


I saw Love again and it was good to see him doing well. It even felt good to catch up during the time that we did. Perhaps its reappearance was meant only to see if I’d still do anything for it without allowing Thought to ruin it.

Apparently so.

Granted, Wall Up is a horrible babysitter for not keeping his eye on my Heart, because she got away and encountered something she hadn’t seen in awhile but knew very well. In essence this encounter showed me how to love without borders in order to experience the true depths of Love where Thought doesn’t go, and sacrifice it for Self-Love when it gets to be no good for you. Or perhaps to just set it free once you’ve had enough.

When you have more to say, just insert [To Be Continued…] here.


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