No Ordinary Love

This morning, I found myself listening to the incomparable Sade while rereading my thoughts on love, dating and relationships. I came to the conclusion that I don't know much.

Well, let me not say that. As I have grown older and experienced men on a personal level, my definitions have changed. If love were a Wikipedia entry, I’d be clicking that broom everyday.

 It’s not about showing off to my family and friends; nor is it about posting pics on Facebook or even filing my taxes with someone else. The recurring theme in my musings is that I want to be with someone who sees the real me.

The problem? I don’t really know who she is.

But everyday, I’m learning more. I actually bought and wore a red dress--it looked good on me. When I don’t feel like going out, I say that. When I do, I leave my insecurities and baggage at home. I have loved and lost. And I survived. I cry freely, knowing that tears are not a sign of weakness. Rather, they are nourishment for my blossoming heart.

I  won’t run anymore.  If I do, that would make me typical. Ordinary. You can use a whole lot of adjectives to describe me, but ordinary isn’t one.

And neither is my love.

--K.