Slow like honey

People say that love is slow. It takes time to build trust and respect between two people. When I was young I believed them. I consented that my full, pulsing heart was nothing more than lust and hormones. I didn’t really know my lovers. How could you possibly know someone in a month, or a year? People spend lifetimes not even knowing themselves. So I let the elders tell me that I was young and foolish, and that I didn’t know what love was. I second-guessed all of my emotions and my values. They came too easily.

Now, I call bullshit. Love does not, by definition, come in slowly. Sure, it can be slow and quiet. It can be a whisper so softly that you risk missing it altogether. But it can also be quite sudden. It can roar like a lion, the saliva from its jaw smattering your squinched-up face. It can rain down like acidic stars falling from the night sky, piercing your shell of false beliefs.

When I was young I learned what I could from my elders. I learned about moderation, balance and reason. I learned how to keep my heart in check. Now that I am sliding up the scales I am seeing how much I need to relearn from those that are younger than me. Love is, above all, simple. Quick or slow, easy or difficult, it is at least simple.

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