It’s the weekend of genuine love, artificial love, commercialized love, compelled love, struggling love, crawling love and secretive love. Let’s all dance to love, it’s in the air. Its love’s birthday! Don’t deny it, its deserved bliss, lest it’ll come back to haunt you. Through love, we came to birth, we nurtured friends to best friends, and spotted our soul mates. Let’s toss glasses for LOVE, even if at times it makes us twice shy if not compromising our intuits.
This reminds me of John Hagees preaching last Sunday, that got me thinking. That our lives have been shaped by people who love us and moreover by people who have refused to love us! Sounds like a stubborn true. The latter have taught us lessons, the former have affirmed our characters. We’re heroes and victims of a double edged sword. A sword of love, that cuts what we hold dear to, and pills what will call baggage, in equal measure.
You can never hide from love, in fact the more you try, the more guiltier you resemble. So can we for a minute, think of people who have allowed us to be in their space. That’s love. Appreciate them this weekend. Buy them a gift, spend time with them, let them know how important they are to you. Break the rules this weekend, dismiss the jinx, and resolve to spend more energy in loving than hating, going forward.
As you ponder these words, I can’t help but get distracted by this couple in my neighbourhood, swaddled by love. Their glowing faces, speak volumes. They are foolishly in love. The innocent love. The love of our teenage lives, when we stumbled on our first girl/boyfriends. They walk lazily, jaded closely by their long shadows, piercing through trees.
They cuddle. They lock lips. They stare at each other’s eyes steadily, carried away by heat of the moment. The only music they could be listening to, is that of their synchronized heartbeats, popping their chests in and out. Their hearts are overwhelmed, by this magic feeling which at times triumphs over their rationality. They gaze at the beautiful horizon as darkness faintly crawls in, replacing daylight. They count the stars as the hearth beneath the ashes, of consistent attraction, carries their minds away. Away to the utopia, where perfection calls home. Where good things and great dreams are born.
Brazing the cold evening, they cover themselves with a masai leso as they reminisce their journey of love. There are victims of love, sealed by fate, some few years back. From strangers to lovers and vice versa, love bogs and massages them depending on its mood.
I watch all these, hovering over my rear window. The prism that helps me unwind, after a long day, trying to make ends meet. See you on the other side of Valentine. Have a lovely weekend.