Art and Poetry

An Open Letter to Love

Dear Love,

You know there are times when you come off as being a little too good to be true. Too perfect in your intentions to survive in a world with an agenda to create imperfections. Many times I find myself questioning your make-up and what’s really keeping you alive. If it weren’t for so many exceptions to the rule, I’d be convinced to believe you’re full of crap; but you aren’t. You can’t be…

And while the rate at which relationships and marriages fail is increasing exponentially compared to the rate at which they survive, the fact is that some are surviving; which tells me that you not only exist but you’re very selective with who you settle with these days. You’re like a blackbird preying on fruit; observing patiently and carefully allowing it to ripe and earn your bite into it.

Relationships are just like that. The problem, which is just like how supermarkets genetically ripen their fruits before its harvest, is that we sometimes try to do that with our relationships. We skip the crucial steps and hurry the ripening thereby forcing you to have us when you or us weren’t really ready; killing whatever chances of you wanting to possibly stick around.

But Love I’m asking you to please bear with us, while we foolishly try to take advantage of your patience and your presence. You see we’re not so cultured to openly want you and appreciate when you’re here like our grandparents and their parents did; but it doesn’t mean we aren’t worthy. It doesn’t mean we don’t think about you, aren’t jealous of those who have you and don’t secretly anticipate your bite when we create fruit with a bearer.

I guess we just don’t want you to bite us, and then leave us. Unlike cuts and bruises to humans, when you cut our fruit and leave it won’t heal back to normal. Instead it stays there, exposed to the hard, cold cuts from the wind of life until it withers and dries over; until it’s hardened. So I’m asking you again, bear with us Love.






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