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Love....gone!

The romantic, the lover, I am waiting for you.  The more I reflect on this facade the more I see that this is my impasse.  I don't know who my true lover must be.  I don't know the boundaries around romance.  I think of love as infinite, but have experienced it with conditions and disappointment.  I am beginning to believe the lover in me is radical and revolutionary.  My romantic facade has been genuine and I will always be mindful of the my shadow's lust.  I am human and will always be vulnerable to the dysfunction of eros. I think about the restlessness my lover once had back in my 20's and how it chased affection and validation and compare it to now where I seek to connect and experience, and I see the exceptional progress.  I see how I handle the void of love withheld.  I can see how it is a form of control that has been used on me and by me.  I can see how my first thought is often more for concern with the other, when in my past the other was rarely considered.  I can see how much more meaning my apologies have because they are actually followed up with change.  My true lover has taught me that trust is love.  When someone says I trust you, it is the purest way to express their love.  My lover has shown me that love is not expressed in the sexual experience.  The ego has fooled me with the sensations and intoxicating rush of the orgasim into believing that love is felt like a high.  I have absolutely no clarity on how to love except in the form of forgiveness.

4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.

- 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

Immigrating Without Borders

      I immigrated from Albuquerque’s city life to a quieter Santa Fe.  Santa Fe is 50 some odd miles north of Albuquerque along the Camino ...