Elitely Manic

the art of loving

My body has never been a sight for sore eyes in my eyes. Until recently, I only saw myself through the lenses and interpretations of others. My mother, my aunties, friends, strangers, men. I’ve never fully looked at myself from my perspective and that alone. There’s always background noise. Echoes of what could be, what shouldn’t be, what’s better where. I wonder sometimes if this is a character trait. Not wanting to see myself for who I truly am. How I really look. Does this trait affect other areas of my life like say, loving?

Do I willingly look away when I’m supposed to shine my eyes? How is loving for me interpreted by others? Do I really seek romantic companionship or do I simply need a friend? Do I even like men enough to tolerate everything I have from them? But if I don’t like them, then what about them keeps me coming back? Should I ask these questions about my body? Is my body the only attraction I possess? If so, I must look good. But, is that enough?

I was welcomed to a brutal understanding recently. People don’t always want what they claim to want. Their needs often speak louder using the voice of their actions. Nine times out of ten, believe what you see. The one percent of folks who actually mean what they say they want or need aren’t out here trying to maintain a personality type. They just exist in the knowing that their actions greatly support what they’ll allow or accept. It’s the ones who are bent over and gripping thorns with their azz-whole from the people they look up to in a desperate attempt to replicate their lives. These ones are the real problem…

The art of loving requires more than simplicity. A lot of people have normalized simple love and claimed that real love doesn’t ask for much. I can tell you for free that that loving is the most expensive currency. The idea of loving is free. The art of loving will cost you your life.