A part of me died today and I couldn’t be happier. A part of me died today, as it does every day, as it does for all of us every day. That part 5 seconds ago, 5 minutes ago, 5 hours ago. Another page of life ripped out or is it written? We die for so long, we’re lucky it’s only once I guess. There is an old saying, ” You get what you deserve!”  What a load of crap. I have seen so many that deserved so much get nothing. I have seen so many with so much that deserve nothing. 

And what do I get? I get love. Everywhere I go I get love. Everywhere I go all I see is love. Everything in my life is measured by love like how eggs used to be the measurement for protein. For me everything in life is measured by love. Love has become precious and in demand. Love has become more valuable than white gold. Love has become scarce and abundant. Love has become categorized, real love, false love, bad love, lost love, limitless love or cold love. I see love everywhere. Where there is no love, I see love. I see that there is no love. I have become attuned to love. My balance sheet of life is littered not with numbers… assets, but with levels of love, dangerously high or low levels of love. Like consciousness travelling faster than the speed of light or our brains filling spaces larger than life with memories. 

Love can be stored anywhere, everywhere, nowhere… Everybody everywhere loves. Some of us love to not love. Some of us love to hate, but we all love something even if it’s nothing. I love hating getting angry a lot. Sometimes I love hating not being able to sleep. The other day I was told this story about this pregnant woman. She was fat-pregnant with a baby wobbling around inside her so much it made her laugh and cry in pain. The baby inside of her wobbled so much. Then, a couple of weeks before she was due, the wobbling stopped. A couple weeks later she bore a child strangled by its umbilical cord. I would love to stop thinkning about that but I can’t. 

Now, I love hating not being able to sleep. I would love to stop hating. Is this love? This constant worrying until you vomit from fatigue and pass out. I would love to think not! But, it is love, one of the double-sided edges of love, sharp enough to slice you to your core.