Posted in Diary

Feeling Lovesick

Lots of fun
Image via: blogindex.hu

There can be days; days when I wish I had found my soul-mate—someone who loves me back as fiercely as I love him…and a little more. On such days, I mourn my lost loves. Memories of goodbyes arch a frown on my face. Then I sigh and conclude that perhaps, love will find a way when it’s time; otherwise, it’s no use sweating things. It’s no use preserving an expired relationship, for instance; because that means at its eventual funeral, you would have greater stench to deal with. Forget Resurrection Sundays when it comes to this. Wisdom lies in knowing when to give up,when to slam a door that has been left ajar and walk further down on life’s hallways. Open doors are always ahead. But we must keep the faith.

On days like this, it becomes imperative for me to remind myself that the essence of life is LOVE itself, not romantic love.

So most likely, my broken heart will be mended if I found other people to love, other things to fall in love in with. It need not be a man. No, it need not be a man.

So I implore myself to reach out and love someone, love something—find a passion. I implore myself to love those the Creator has already place in my life. They are the ones I need. They are the ones I must cherish. I know this because Scriptures say: “the Lord is my shepherd, I have everything I NEED.” I must remind myself that my present desires are really not needful if I can’t have them despite my tireless efforts and just as I browse past online stores with attractive women’s clothing, I must do with the ones I love who wouldn’t stay. I must let them go since their hearts were never mine.

I should call my parents and siblings more often. I should hang-out with girlfriends and hand them a kerchief when tear-floods burst from their eyes. If my capacity to love is only found in my ability to care for my soul-mate, then, I am not loving and it’s a rather shallow life I live.

Only when I can feel, can empathize with any genuine pain and share the true joys of ANYONE created, have I begun to live.

I must be compassionate if my heart will stay whole amidst the continuous attachments and detachments and rendezvous’ and goodbyes which it must know before the one arrives.

I must take the initiative in loving. There are too many love-starved people to minister to—in our churches, on our streets, and even in our homes. We must take time to stop, have a little conversation, lend a helping hand to the neighbor with overbearing luggage.

The only things we truly give are those for which we cannot be repaid and no man was ever remembered for what he received but what he gave.

There are little children, there are old people. Even if the one you wanted somehow got away, invest in these helpless ones and in that time of the day when all men go to bed, someone will be thinking about you with a warm warm heart and if possible, will be looking forward to seeing you again.

What more could you ask for?

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Author:

Poetry freak. Chemical engineer-in-training. Daughter of the Most High.

2 thoughts on “Feeling Lovesick

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