Not too long ago I was at a party with some friends when a girl I knew in passing approached me. Apparently she had dropped acid that night and was feeling more direct than usual.
"You don't get it." She said.
"Um, alright?" I smiled and looked around.
She shook her head violently, "No no no no no you just don't fucking get it Locke- you can read it in your eyes man. You-" she said, gesturing wildly
I tried to interrupt her but she just talked louder.
"It's about love", she said. "That's all it's ever been about. You can't explain it- rationalize it. You can't break it down in that head of yours. You feel it. You just have to let it out and in."
I’ve been thinking about what she said a lot recently. The awkward accusation that I never knew and did not understand love was shrugged off by everyone, but for whatever reason, it stuck with me- maybe due to its completely random nature. Regardless of whatever she thought she was saying in her delirious state, what she said struck a chord with me.
I don't know if it would be fair to say I've never known love. I've had my fair share of heartache over the years- that hormone induced attachment and subsequent gut wrenching few days of aching and aloof pain that always seems to follow. I hate to admit that I carry this aching around with me- this numb pain that always seems to creep back into my life. It's a sore in my chest that never seems to quite heal and it’s something I rarely about it makes me feel more vulnerable and weak than I am. I maintain a façade of being collected and cool-headed at all times, but on the inside I'm forever squirming; forever in a state of being on the verge of tears but never being able to cry.
In my defense, I think a lot of this pain is understandable. I've been through some relationships that are almost comedic in their bizarrely tragic nature. People are often speechless when I tell them about my past due the weirdly coincidental nature and patterns of my stories. I've been...