I Thought Love Was a Myth

I thought love was a myth. A fabricated fairytale that people fantasized could happen, but did not. I did not realize I could go in pursuit of happiness. No one spoke of it in my house. I never saw gentle kisses or tender embraces that might have fueled my ambitions to find love. Instead, I watched a stillborn relationship that dragged me down with no mercy.
Now, knowing that passionate love is out there, I must be released from my cocoon. I will not lay dormant and wonder how love feels. I want to open myself and let love wander into me, on me. I am empty, a vessel, a barren being, left for vultures to consume my soul. I walk and crawl across the Serengeti, looking for signs of a life that I might love, but I remember I am empty, and I wonder what I have to give? I have never seen love. Am I capable of providing something that lives outside my body, outside my mind?
The wound I live with is vast. I must fix my damaged self before I can give or receive someone into my life if I can! I have spent a lifetime searching for the right person, not realizing “I” was the wrong person. My thoughts and actions created a vacuum of pain and torment inflicted upon myself. I realized having never clearly seen a rainbow; I could not appreciate its beauty. I thought love was a myth. A fabricated fairytale that people fantasized could happen, but did not.
Quite by accident, I saw you standing on a beach just before dawn. When the sun rose, the beauty of your face gave me hope that I might know love. You and the morning sun transformed me into a man, and you wrapped yourself around me and fulfilled the needs of my heart. I wish I were clever enough to tell you how your touch delivered sensations I had only dreamed. These feelings were not supposed to be real, and yet I stood with you on the sand, and I became more, so much more. I thank you for giving me the honor of finding happiness in your arms. You are my rainbow, and I will spend the rest of my life gazing upon your beauty.

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