Where I Am in Love

For the first time ever, I'm in school and not looking forward to seeing anybody. I'm not watching some television show just to see some beautiful actress. I'm not surfing the mall to catch some proverbial Miss Augusta (that title even sounds awful, doesn't it). I'm not reminiscing on some old crush; not going out of my way to find a new one. In my bed at night, I'm alone in body, mind, and spirit.

And yes, even the "one that got away" and my "dream girl"... I'm tired of reaching for them. I haven't forgotten them, no; they cross my mind every day. But my mind isn't dedicated to them like it was before. It's only a matter of time now...

I'm wearing a deep blue shirt right now; a deep blue, plaid shirt, faded blue jeans, and gashed-up blue sneakers. There's no lovely colors, nothing loveable going on over here right now.

As friends are discussing marriage, working through their relationship problems, I'm 100% for 'em. I do whatever I can to usher relationships higher and higher; I'm a Black Dr. Phil. But I don't Phil anything. Nothing lovely, at least.

I know for fact that a relationship with the "one that got away" would bring out the absolute best in me, it's already in my spirit. I also know that that relationship can't happen. And brooding over it is an act of futility in the name of romance; beautiful, and no good to anybody, particularly myself.

I'm not down on love; love remains permanently in my top 5 most favorable things in life. And agape love still rules supreme: I love everybody and got love for everybody. But as far as being in love with anybody, I don't even like to think of it at the moment. Too much to think about, and utterly inconsequential.

Has life taken the wind out of my sails? On the contrary: in the beginning, romance was no wind. 'More like a sweet fragrance in a settling breeze as I waited for the gales that would take me to my destination. 'Funny thing about the nose; 'you smell something long enough, and your senses just adjust, to the point that you can no longer smell it.

I can't smell it anymore.

Which is why I'm getting away from it. The smell I once enjoyed has become a neutral scent; I need to get away from it if I ever hope to smell it anew. And even if I don't want to smell it anew, I can get away from it to serve that purpose as well.

This is the cold, calculating side of me in action.

I'm hungry, I'm flustered, I'm low on patience, I'm overburdened, and I'm over-exerted. So what is love to me? Maybe a little love would help with that, you say? Or maybe it would put me in the position of my dear friends: needing someone to talk them through the challenge of love. Because love indeed is a challenge---
but a worthy challenge. My hat goes off to the lovers out there.

I'm not in love. Anymore.