Dear Love,

Sometimes, I really hate you.

I hate you for tricking me. I hate you for all the feelings you give me, and the pain the inevitably follows.

I hate you for blinding me to truths that I should have seen from the beginning.

I hate that most people can fall in and out of you, and I seem to be unable to let you go.

I hate that you’re always around, enveloping me in warmth, when all I want in certain moments is to be cold and alone, the way I feel.

I hate that I can see you in others and not in myself. I hate that I’m not sure if I actually understand what you are. I hate that I see others sharing you between themselves, in their own world, in their own embraces, in their wet kisses.

I hate that you’re almost always portrayed in movies and TV in an unrealistic, fairy-tale-like way. I hate that you made me think I’d grow up and find a prince because that’s just how you work.

I hate that I can feel you bursting inside me, wanting so badly to get out. I hate that I feel like I have so much of you to give, and no one to give it to.

It’s easy to blame you when my heart is broken. It’s easy to believe I don’t need or want you. It’s easy to think that life would be better without you, or that possibly you and the world might be better without me.

I hate when people say that you are all I need. No, Love, you are definitely not all I need. But, I also hate that I do need you.

I hate that people do evil, terrible things in your name.

And I hate that after everything, I still want you and crave you.

And then I remember: I am lucky to have you.

I am lucky that I can still feel you. I am lucky I still want to feel you.

I am lucky that through my losses, I still see you.

I am lucky that through all the hatred and racism and bigotry and violence and war and poverty and despair and anger and rage and depression and sadness and weakness and sickness in the world, you persevere.

I am lucky you granted me a human version of yourself in my daughter. I look at her, and I see Love. I hug her, and Love hugs me back.

I am lucky to have a family who knows you, and taught me all about you through example. I grew up hearing true and sincere I Love You’s on a daily basis, and still do. Not everyone is so lucky.

You are there for me when I need you.

Maybe you really do conquer all. Maybe I do have the courage to try to find you in someone else, to trust you one more time.

Maybe someday I’ll have the courage to love myself.

I guess what I’m trying to say is:

I love you, Love.

Always,
Natalie

This is Part 1 (Day 1) of a series called April Love Letters, from Susannah Conway. Find out more at http://www.susannahconway.com/april/. April 1st’s prompt was “Dear Love”.