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Written by: Meagan Sponseller
All too often we make love out to be something it isn’t. Painful, destructive, disappointing, and altogether frustrating. Complicated. Hard. This is not Love at all. This is not how it should be and we can feel it deep within our souls. Embedded in our consciousness. We know this is not Love. We know there is so much more. In our times, we have lost simplicity. How simple anything can be if we just let it be without the desire to change it? Without the desire to mold it into what it is not. We wouldn’t approach an artist’s statue and try to change it, why would we try to change the nature of Love? Love is understanding and acceptance. Love is, always has been, and always will be simple. You see, Love is so much more than grand gestures. It’s more than money spent, agreements or disagreements, or the sharing of space. It has never been what they post about you on social media or how often they text you. If that were the case, people would have never loved before technology advanced. I stress again, Love is simple. Love is them telling you to sleep because you’re tired. It’s them making sure you’ve made it home. It’s a simple “be safe” before you leave. It’s hand-written letters ranging from a single word to a never ending stream of hellos. It’s showing you their favorite song. It’s questions and answers. It’s shared coffee, shared memories, and shared laughter. It’s wiping away tears. Love is a place, an object, or a photo that reminds them of you. It’s investing in them and their passions, their work, and their dreams. It’s building them up and being their biggest fan. It’s their voice and the way they say your name. Love is the sharing of knowledge. It’s acknowledging their mistakes without criticizing. It’s them teaching you it’s okay, in fact it’s beneficial, to love yourself. It’s their patience and understanding of your nature. It’s accepting what society deems as their flaws simply as what they are. Them. It’s simple compliments and intricate shared details of their mind. It’s their eyes and smile. It’s butterflies and blushes. It’s them calling to wake you up because they miss you. It’s knowing they exist. It’s the act of caring in all of its fine forms. It’s inexplicable emotion. It’s effort. It’s simplicity at its finest. Perhaps not so simple in each individual aspect, but still. Love is simple all together. © 2024 Meagan Sponseller
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Written by: Meagan Sponseller
When you see my scars, will I still look the same? Not just the scars on my arms, but the permanent indents left on my psyche. The scars caused by neglect, abandonment, pain, and abuse. Does telling you of my past make your abandonment more likely? When I pull away and have moments I can’t stand to be touched, will I be someone you can no longer use? How can I be of benefit to you? Do I have to stand by entirely mute? Would you like a show where I focus solely on you? Where I place myself on the back burner like I’m told to do? Where I dim my light to help yours shine? No thank you. Not this time. I had to repair what I didn’t break. My heart, my soul, my mind. The scars etched in my skin and soul are my form of Kintsugi. I did the best I could with what I had at the time. I am not responsible for the damage, just the reparations made. I’m not sorry if the way I survived doesn’t look how you think it should have. I’m not sorry if the endings I chose don’t align with your ideal life. And before you say that I’m damaged, know that I’m not. “Damaged” would insinuate that there is a specific way I should be. I’m not made to fit your definition of perfect. However, if knowing of my past makes you walk away because you think I’m damaged, then perhaps you are far more tarnished than I am. My past made me kinder, patient, understanding, generous, and less judgmental but somehow MY past makes people walk away. I don’t tell people my story to make them carry it, I tell them to give them the opportunity to understand. If my vulnerability and knowing me is such a burden, I’m glad that you won’t accept the privilege of loving me. © 2024 Meagan Sponseller |
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