Love does not begin and end as the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is growing up.
Tell me what’s the difference
between hope and waiting
because my heart doesn’t know
It constantly cuts itself on the glass of waiting
It constantly gets lost in the fog of hope
Anna Kamienska, Difference. trans. Grazyna Drabik and David Curzon (via yesyes)
mel mat: lately, i’ve been thinking a lot about the idea of waiting. i was having a conversation with a friend a while back and we somehow got to talking about images of our childhoods. i realized that a portrait of myself when i was 4 or 5 was me watching weird canadian variety shows, waiting for my parents to come home from work. i remember being really creeped out by the grim humor of smith and smith and then my parents coming home a bit past midnight. i remember being happy and relieved. and then we would go to sleep.
i think about what that could have meant in terms of giving and receiving love, in terms of my role as a child and my parents’ roles as my nanayand tatay. i never really gave this memory much of a second thought until recently. i think about how this is mirrored in intimate relationships i’ve had in the past and how i’ve always covered it up as sacrifice and unconditional love.
but if the reasons for my actions are coming from that place, is that much of an act of love for myself? much less, an act of love to others?
needless to say, i’m slowly reaching for my all about love right about now.