My Heart is Ever at Your Service

August 2, 2010
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There are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.”
— Chuck Klosterman (Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story)



I feel as though I have stumbled upon some great mystery…. An urban legend of sorts. I have concluded that maybe, possibly I know exactly what love is. My reasoning? Well, hindsight is 20/20… and looking back, I found my own personal definition. It didn’t come as some terrible shock… I’ve just ran from the inevitable for so long that I seemed to have run in a circle and come face to face with the enemy. So, ladies and gents… I won’t be able to properly define love in words, because I believe it’s found in that moment that you both lock eyes or in that disoriented moment right before falling fast asleep… but I will do the best I can by sharing my extremely raw thoughts.

I can’t reveal the secret to you. It’s like you know just because you know. It isn’t as if someone asked you “Who sailed the ocean in 1492?”… you just know the answer to that because some teacher somewhere at some point in your life told you about it (and made up a catchy little rhyme, which also reminds us that the ocean is indeed blue). Love can’t be taught. Love, for me, is this kind of thing I’ve never even realized I had until I was put into situations where it all came to life. I notice it when I talk about someone…. I talk about pretty much everyone in a regular and general manner. But the one I love, I talk about in an epic manner. I once read somewhere to not use words such as ‘infinite’ in abundance because those words will lose their intensity if thrown around so haphazardly. Then, what will you say when something is truly infinite? These words that have such strong meaning aren’t used frequently in my life… but when it comes to love, I become some poetic being that I never knew I was. It’s like I have stepped outside myself and I’ve become immersed in the spirit of another. I’m trying to describe this the best way that I can. It’s like if you were to just sit and describe all of the people in your life. Who would have general terms? Who would you say was “cool”, “sweet”, and “cute”? And who would have intense terms? Who would you say was “enchanting”, “beloved”, “cavalier”, “treasure”, “precious”, and “infinitesimal”? I can only think of one person. Uno.

This isn’t because I’ve only loved one person. This is merely because I have only REALLY loved one person. You know? There are quite a few people I would do anything in the world for, including taking a bullet…. And to me, that means that I love them. But to REALLY love someone… it’s just different, you know? And this isn’t about that person. I’ve got no desire to talk about one person in particular… this is much bigger than just one person. However, I base all of my knowledge about love on him and how my mind works in accordance to him… so inadvertently it has to be about him. But it isn’t. And that is of the utmost importance.

I think it’s safe to say that if you find this definition of sorts, that person will forever remain the prettiest person you know, or used to know. And not necessarily the kind of pretty that’s so painfully obvious. The kind of pretty where you open a door and don’t care one bit about what’s on the other side… Maybe it’s a bunch of cute bunnies. Maybe it’s a f***ing dragon. But you’re holding the hand of the person you love most in the entire world. And that’s what’s so pretty… they’re all you need and they don’t even realize it. They’re just pretty. In every single way possible. Let me put it this way. If I were to climb to the top of Mt. Everest, I imagine the sight I would see at the summit would be the most beautiful thing in the entire world. But not because it was worldly pretty… you know, it doesn’t have blue eyes and long blonde hair or something to that extent… it’s just beautiful. And the moment you see it is honestly like no other. And when you come back down and try to tell everyone what you saw up there, it’s impossible. Top of Mt. Everest = your love. I wish I could bottle that emotion up, but there isn’t a container big enough for something so ridiculously powerful.

Time is of the essence, and although things get rough at times, I don’t intend on wasting my time here. I know that this life is not the end, but either way, I plan on really living. I think about all of the people who have passed away that have never really experienced love… and I am sad for them, but I know they’ll experience it eventually. I’m sad for all of the people who have loved with all of their heart and soul and haven’t had those feelings reciprocated. I’m sad for love. But it’s a strange kind of sad.

I have rambled far too much. I came here to tell you what love is and I failed miserably. I understand exactly what I’m trying to say. I know the feeling that I get when a name is mentioned or eyes lock. I just don’t know how to put that feeling onto paper. Perhaps if this heart on my sleeve could bleed onto the paper, you would understand. But I guess it’s just for everyone to learn in their own time. And then you’ll know. And when you tell people, you’ll just know. And they won’t know until they know. And maybe there will come a day when the whole world knows. A day when everyone loves someone with every fiber of their existence. But not today.

Today I will love who I love and you will love who you love and for some reason, for some people, it will never be enough. Who knows what goes through those people’s minds. Maybe we don’t really know them. And by ‘we’ I mean ‘I’, and by ‘them’ I of course mean ‘him’. Perhaps we don’t know them, because as Chuck Klosterman said, it seems like the kind of love you can only have for someone you don’t really know. It’s just intense, man. Maybe you disagree. But I know what I’m saying.

This has all just been some fragment of my heart. I hope that you have enjoyed my jabberwocky. I am merely eighteen years old, and with absolute conviction I can say I love who I love and I will love them forever. Not just here on earth, but forever. I will love someone not just for the rest of time, but even when time ceases to exist. It’s infinite. And for me, that will have to be enough.



“This is my life. And I want to tell you that I am both happy and sad. And I’m still trying to figure out how that could be.”

-Perks of Being a Wallflower





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