What do the words I love you mean?
After an unexpected conversation tonight, I am left wondering at the import of the words and what they have until now meant to me.
I discover to my tumultous surprise that these words do not come strings unattached. That like for most people, they come to me with notions and expectations of exclusivity, of fidelity in mind and body, of unrealistic love made realistic by convention and conditioning.
Words that betray these unthought expectations create strangeness inside of me. The unnaturalness of extreme heat and extreme cold colliding against each other, of a liquid that seems like water but feels as heavy as oil, of heaviness and lightness existing in the same space at the same time...
I grapple for support in identifiable emotions of anger and hurt and sadness and equanimity and composure and evenness. I fail miserably. Uttterly. And yet I try, try and try. Till I succeed. Urging for reservoirs unknown within me to come rescue me.
