Hold me on the dark

Every choice I make has love at its core. I take actions from desire. From the desire to see a better future. Not one devoid of relationships, not one alone, not one where I sit in some glorified tower surrounded by a parade of pale delights. Always with an eye towards love.

I think that is why I have such a heavily scarred heart. Because while love and passion was wearing off, hitting that three month endorphin deadline, my love was building based on knowledge of the person. Each fact and thought and action building to a fuller picture, reinforcing my choice to love.

Because that’s what love is, a choice. A choice we make anew each day. Not some heedless rush of need to this conclusion of sex. Not some taste test to see if the person will last a bit longer in that endorfun gold rush.

But I get it, we want that instant connection. And the story I tell about Morgan is all about that. But it’s not a full picture. It wasn’t the meeting, it was the continuing choice to keep meeting. To not accept a one night stand and agreeing together to look and stay for more.

And that is love too. The choices we make together for each other. Not for ourselves. And not in the vacuum of our own hubris but in solemn, giddy, and laughing discussion of what we want and how we’ll get there.

It’s we. Rather than I. Not saying there isn’t room for I, but if it’s not we, then it’s not real. If it’s not we then it’s desire and obsession masked as love. A heady combination which never quite lives up to the firework you are expecting.

And still, there are fireworks. Love is what we should all choose to be. What we can choose to be. With whomever we want, provided they feel the same.

Love, it’s why we are here.

This is a broken world
But I am not broken

And the way forward is always love.

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