Monologue Monday: Shumblebeginnings

Hi Web friends!

It’s time for another Monologue Monday post. (And speaking of weekly posts, is it just me or is time FLYING by? It will be Christmas again before we know it… Ok, hopefully it doesn’t move that fast, but seriously it seems like the New Year was just yesterday…just means that I need to make more time to stop and enjoy the moment).

But back to this post, as you probably already know if you’ve had time to read the About The Site tab, this site focuses a chunk of it’s attention on us ladies (and gentlemen) sharing our personal stories with each other in hopes of either encouraging one another, inspiring change, evoking thoughts, promoting healthy discourse  or just letting each other know that we aren’t alone.

Well, today we are doing just that: Shar, a fellow reader turned friend, is sharing her personal thoughts with the idea of love, her expectations of a storybook romance, and her actual reality of it all in a post title “What Does It Mean To Love?”.

P.S. This is a repost of the same post that she wrote on her personal blog Shumblebeginnings sometime last month. Please feel free to stop by and check out her site if you get a chance; I’m sure she would love the company :).

Shumblebeginnings: “What Does It Mean To Love?”

I remember a time in my life when I never met anyone special.

Life then was a simple and non-complex thing. There were no worries. Only my dreams for romance that I saw in Disney movies and what I read in storybooks.

That was what love was for me. Hiding behind a tree when your crush walked by. Your words getting caught in your throat because you were unable to tell your best friend how you really felt (about him). You were in fear because you didn't want to destroy that friendship.

Yes, that used to be me. I remember those days spent daydreaming for the day my prince would come.

Would he climb my long braided hair to rescue me from the evil queen that kidnapped me? Or would he battle a sea-witch that took my singing voice away? Those were my questions. Yes, those dreams continued to swim in my thoughts until the very day that I met that one special person.

Everything changed. Life wasn't as simple and non-complex as it used to be. Life now was something that was now being shared with him. Getting to know him was exhilarating. It seemed as if my dream had come true. He was my prince charming that saved me from the evil queens and sea-witches. That was all a girl could wish for right?

Wrong! my dream came crashing down into a screaming nightmare. The boy I fell for wasn't who I thought he was. He wasn't my dream anymore. Things became even more complicated. Things became rough.

Nights that were spent thinking about him, were nights spent wanting to hate him. I didn't want us anymore. My heart couldn't take the pain of wanting things to return back to normal.

I never knew how fragile a woman's heart was until those moments I spent laying in my bed wanting to give up. My pillow was my best friend and my covers were my sanctuary. Yet, I knew deep down that I could never truly hate him. The boy was now a man and I knew that my love for him ran past my emotions, past all logic in this world. It was a love that could only come from God himself.

This is when things became even more complicated. I was caught between what I knew and the unknown. Loving my prince nightmare was the hardest thing to do. Especially when I had voices all around me. But despite all of the nightmares and all the heartbreak. I realized one thing. I still loved him even when my heart was broken. I hated that fact and loved it at the same time. I became a walking contradiction. Still yet I continued to love him.

This was when I realized something else. What it truly means to love. Loving someone isn't the happy lovey-dovey feeling that you feel when you first meet someone. Truly loving someone is still being able to say I love you when that person gives you every reason to walk away. You find something in them that makes you want to stay. 

-Shar

“You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly”

-Sam Keen