shadowboxer

an editorial to (your) love

i’m tired. very very tired, and probably out of shape. fun fact: i played 2 sports yearly from when i could walk all the way up to about age 12. soccer, basketball, soccer basketball. god bless Real So Cal. the trophies of each season line the highest of my 3 desks, along with other miscellaneous trophies: flag football from 2017 and 2018, where i never really cared about the sport and i lost love for it (and my dad would be eternally happy for that). a participation chess trophy from 2014; someone should have taught that boy the London System or any variation of what he would play during late-night blitz and bullet sessions with Her so many years later. all the belts from Team Karate Centers, all up to my final black belt. all of the ones Michael wouldn’t shut up about.

as i grow older, my definition of love seems to get bigger. and this should happen for everyone. a sense of love that’s relinquished to 3 words or less will never work, even if you say the 3 necessary words just enough for your love to run wholly verbally. the problem is, even as i learn and grow more with love and my evergrowing withdrawals of it, i don’t know how to have a truly defined grasp on the concept. there’s a lot you could point to: the way i love to love, which is unsurprisingly one of the biggest factors. i’ve always adored Touch, and unfortunately, people aren’t always able to hug you when shit gets Bad.

or at least, people aren’t always able to hug You.

you could also point to my simultaneous love of psychoanalysis and the fact that i couldn’t take a hint if you slapped me in the face with a baseball bat. never catching when that topic is over and done with and yet still staying on that topic as if it wouldn’t answer your calls for half a year (as of this current moment) and wholly abandon any sense of conversation with you if you let that topic go. people don’t need detectives when the case is done, but they need You to be able to pick up the bread crumbs when the trail’s been left out. you’ll get to just letting it all go eventually, you’ll have to. and when you do, i’ll love You a little bit more.

or, maybe you still haven’t learned from what She taught you. their love will never fully flow through you if Your love cannot flow through your own body first. that’s always been the main point, and good lord have You loved avoiding it. you’ve been the therapist for anyone who you would let come to you. Your heart is three times the size it should be, and that makes you an incredible friend as much as it does make you a victim to your own want to help others. She told you this, and You know that. but you can only push things to the lowest edge of the beautiful cacophony that is your heart so much, and sometimes, you feel like how you would when you went through your old Boulevard yearbooks. Your heart hurts.

but, you keep on loving, and that’s why i love You. occasionally.