Ah Valentine's Day. Today I started thinking about love. And all the different types of love that exist. There are so many.
There's the love between a parent and a child. This is a complicated love. It grows and changes over time — as most loves do. But unlike most loves, this is an undeniable bond. For the lucky, even if the bond seems like it's been broken forever, there is an unnamed force that brings mother and daughter, father and son, back together. This love starts at basic protection; morphs into an endless battle in the teenage years; and then one day is revealed to be one of the most necessary relationships. Your parents have been there...they know what they are talking about.
There's the love of a friend. This can also sometimes be a volatile relationship, but more often than not, any quarrel ends in laughter over a few glasses — or bottles — of wine. The love of a friend makes the good times amazing, and the hard times better. When you can't stop the tears from falling, the love of a good friend makes the "I can't go on" moments...live-able. You might talk every day, multiple times a day, or you might live plane rides away. But when you talk to that person, it's like no time, or distance, has passed.
Then there's the one who got away. He surprised you and slowly, secretly stole pieces of your heart, before you had a chance to reclaim them. It's memories that won't fade. The one who taught you to forgive. He showed you how to feel again through the darkness. You wake up and wonder, when did I lose the reason or the rhyme? It might be someone that held your heart for just a moment, or a lifelong lover. It's the one that, despite the heartache, makes you smile when you remember their laugh. Or their goofy grin. And as strange as it is, you hope nothing but the best for them. And eventually, after enough tears and time, you learn that it will let you go.
And then there's the "true love." This is love I know not of. It's the love you think you've found, but sometimes fades, or more than often, is ripped away. You'll know it the moment that you forget about the many breaks and mends in your heart (I hope). He'll take you by the hand and your fears will fade. It's the jumping around in the moonlit hallway after the door closes post first, second, sixth date....somehow keeps getting better. You feel fresh and new. It's hope. It's grace. It's right. I think it will be like all your favorite things — different for everybody but exactly fitting for you. Of all the old stories that have funny names, this is untitled.