the meaning of love. by thea.

I've been dying to talk about this, understand it, and figure all this shit out. I feel like I've been getting these huge messages, screaming, blaring messages, but they're in a language I don't understand. what am I supposed to be listening to??

one day, I was thinking about Steven as I often do. I was in my car and I was sad about us - again, as usual, whatever. and I looked up and there, on the fucking overpass, was a piss-poor grafitti job that said, "LOVE EXISTS." where? I missed the memo. and why do I see that as I'm thinking about steven?

I keep seeing snakes everywhere. it could very well be that they happen to be in an abundance in my area lately because of all the construction. it might be that I'm hypersensitive to them, so I pay more attention and therefore see snakes. but the other theory I have is that something is warning me...what? what are they warning me about? what danger should I evade?

beyond snakes and anonymous grafitti, I hear songs all the time that speak to me directly. I smell familiar cologne. I dream and wake up not remembering the scenes, but knowing steven was in them because of the longing sensation I feel in my chest.

he showed up literally on my doorstep the other night. I was so surprised that the only thing that came to my mouth was "what the hell are you doing here??!" it wasn't exactly the warm welcome he was looking for, but what he didn't know is that I am almost always irrevocably, unexplainedly happy to see him. I have practiced long and hard not to show just how I feel when I see him - that's how hard it hits me. I could be so horribly mad at him (which, incidentally, I've been for six months now), but the moment I lay eyes on him or he touches me, I feel it. I feel it. what does that mean?

love, above all, is a choice. or is it? this is something I've lived by for years. I thought I had all the wisdom in the world just by knowing that 'fact.' ha! then I fell (HARD) in love with the worst possible boyfriend that ever existed!

now love is a feeling. it's an emotion. a noun. a verb. it's a blister, burn, insomniac; an aphrodisiac, music, poetry, inspiration. love gets me out of bed. love makes me hide under the covers. love is power. love. is. crippling.

love. it's a fucking word.

I've been thinking about him a lot less lately. even when I saw him, I felt the physical draw and the smile that I'm constantly hiding from him when I see him, but it was less than usual. what doesn't make sense is what I'm supposed to do. do I continue this stevenectomy? it's not working. I can't even date people but I can't fully figure out why. I mean, of course I probably compare all these guys to steven, but it's more than that. what I keep trying to explain to myself and to the few people I talk to about this is that I've spent the last six months trying to get over him, and I haven't managed to make much progress. I think that's weird.

it makes me question whether being with him again is a real possibility I need to consider. if it is, then I've got to be real with myself about it. I've got to know why I currently refuse to be with him and decide if it's worth the work and effort. I have to know if I can trust him again or ever. I need to be able to believe him when he says this is it. really?? has he looked for a ring? has he continued sleeping around?

this blows. I'm considering swearing off relationships for now. they scare me. I'm exhausted by them. since the steven fiascos, I haven't even had the desire to fuck around with anyone. that's how debilitating this has been for me and my ego. who will ever want me again?

ugh. all I wanted to do was write. now I'm tired of myself.