I am missing you...

WARNING CONTAINS me, love, bad punctuation, truth and lies, and musings.

I am in a little writing writing group and we get prompts, I'm posting my responses here. This week's prompt is "I am missing you." It is stream of consciousness, but also short. If you skip this post, I'll understand as it is probably a little ham handed. It is also strongly influenced by the fact I watched The Perks of Being a Wallflower the other day. A lotta friendship/love/healing intensity there. 

I am missing you, that innocent certainty of youth that knew love was enough. Love can be all things, shape all things, bend all things, believe all things. Do. All things.

And then you grow up and you meet obstacles that cannot be moved by your love. Wanting someone who does not want you, despite your love. Being unable to help someone in or through or over something, despite your great love for them. You feel helpless. You feel worthless. Because if you, just you and your love, were great enough, good enough, pure enough, certainly you would be able to do all the things that love is meant to do, to fix, to feel, to fight.

And then you get older still and you see, hopefully you feel, that your love, little and feeble or great and fiery, is not meant to solve the problems of the world. Or mend the hearts of all who know you. Nor dispel the griefs or fears of those whom you love. It is meant to sustain you. Just you. The love inside you is there to fill you and flow through you and fall out of you and surround you. To make you whole. To keep you together. In your fullness, your enough-ness, and only when you've looked inside and seen it can be that magic you thought the thought of love alone could be.

With a full heart. With a complete heart. You can help others be all things. You can help those you love shape and bend and believe all things. Your love plus the love of someone else, or perhaps, even better, lots of someone elses, is awesome in its power.

But it does not mean you will always win. It does not mean that in your fullness you can make others full. You will still suffer grief when you cannot add the love inside you to someone else's love for themselves. Because you can't. Or even if you could, it would mean less inside you, then you're both incomplete and that gets you no where.

It means you can shine. Shine your love at people. Smiles. Hugs. Words of support. Your laughter. Your light in the darkness. A pinprick into a night that can guide and give, warm and wonder. That's your gift as a lover.