The Way I See It, #1

The way I see it, love is a choice.

At a different point in my life I subscribed to the notion of love as an irrevocable, external force—one which was beyond human control. Sounds exciting, doesn’t it? Most of society is somehow convinced of this at some point in our development: that when the time/person/universe was right, some mystical wave of emotion would sweep us off our feet and carry us off into the wonders of love. This is the metaphorical falling in love—it’s romantic, it’s fun, and it takes nearly zero effort on our part.

More recently, however, I’ve come to a few realizations which have caused me to reconsider my view of love and relationships. Primarily this refers to my new understanding of love as a personal, conscious choice. Think about it: it is much more meaningful to look at your current/future Significant Other, with all their flaws and shortcomings and habits and history, and to make a conscious decision that you still love them in spite of (or even because of) all of the aforementioned setbacks. This is the essence of loving willingly, rather than at the hands of some irreversible force akin to gravity. It is the act of choosing that empowers us to take control of life and stop waiting for it to take control of us.

Choose to love or choose not to love, but don’t you dare try to blame it on gravity.

That’s Amor-e!

So, it’s Valentine’s Day, more affectionately known as either Obligation Day (for those in relationships) or Singles Awareness Day (for those who are not). I’ve never really been one for Valentine’s Day; besides the fact that pink is my LEAST favorite color, I’ve never really had a reason for participating before. Remember back in Kindergarten and Elementary School, when everyone in the class would bring in tiny cartoon-character Valentines for everyone else and you’d finish the day with a stack of pink and red on your desk which contained the same amount of cards as everyone else’s pink-and-red stack? Yeah, why can’t we just go back to that tradition? I don’t know about you guys, but I genuinely liked reading through all those generic, written-by-someone-else’s-mother platonic love notes.

However, as we grow up, we all start to believe that Valentine’s Day has to be celebrated with one single, special person; that if there is no ‘significant other’ in our life on this holiday, we can only resign ourselves to either declaring how much we love being single, or engaging in a lot of lonely moping. In Kindergarten terms, we started counting how many cards we had. Who brainwashes us like this? I’m not sure, but I’d like to respectfully disagree with them. February 14th is not just a day for couples. Today is a day to show everyone important in your life how much you honestly love them–no strings attached, no obligations, just a whole lot of love and appreciation for family, friends, parents, grandparents, AND significant others if you are blessed with one.

So, in honor of this day of love, I would like to express my deep appreciation for my very small pool of readers, and offer a few writing pieces for your consideration. I’ve also never really been a fan of love poems, but sometimes they just happened to flow out of me and turned out pretty good (as opposed to cliche and mushy), so here goes nothing!

Cutting Cold

This night is cutting cold

and the magnets of our hands

reach,

               nudge,

and find each other in the dark.

You are my anchor

in this frozen sea of sky;

the tether to my kite-in-the-wind ways.

How could I ever drift away?

(c) 2013 Marie KR

Deep Water

Your heart rolls,

the steady rush and thrum

of open ocean,

and with your arms around me

I am lost in its steady swell.

You know I will not swim in the ocean

for fear of what I cannot see around me—

but in this deep water

I can close my eyes;

the only thing around me

is you.

(c) 2013 Marie KR

Elation

Forget butterflies—

you fill my chest with birds;

flurry of

            feathers and air and song

       which threatens to float me away.

When I see you

            (not as often as I’d like)

know that

if I laugh too often,

it is only for the many wings

tickling the insides of my ribs

(c) 2013 Marie KR

Hmmmmm, Indiana…

Well, Howdy, Hoosiers! 😉

I am currently writing from Indiana; the land where all roads are straight, all fields are flat, and us New Jerseyans are quite conspicuous. We use different words (it’s soda, not pop), we eat different foods (rather difficult being a vegetarian out here), and apparently we speak in accents (I don’t even know). But I do enjoy our annual trip Westward, we get to see the cousins and grandparents and get really confused over the hour’s time difference. However, I do have a problem with the 13-hour car ride we undergo both ways–cramming 5 people, our luggage, and occasionally a dog into one vehicle is no mean feat, and not very comfortable either, but we do it and we survive and that’s how things were in the old days, children, before teleportation and holographic cell phones.

Anyway, in this brief lapse from homework and college applications and life in general, I decided I should provide a little update to y’all and show off my western lingo; whaddaya think, pardner? No, they don’t really talk like that here, but it’s certainly different from back home.

So Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukuh, Happy New Year, and all that jazz. Coming up is a little something I threw together about, well…about being single, I suppose, and realizing that this is temporary and ok and even a good thing sometimes 🙂

Here’s to everyone celebrating this year without a significant other, hope you like:

Looking is instinct; Leaping is inevitable

The closest I ever came to flying

was the moment

at the peak of the swing—

the moment when you’ve pushed a little too far,

gone a little too high so that

the heavy chain goes slack

and all the world is quiet while you fall.

Quiet but for the rush of air

and the hiss of rich adrenaline

lashing out from below your lungs

to tighten about the knobby bones

at the nape of your neck

until

life grabs hold with a snap

like something breaking in two,

and you kick back your legs to pull again toward the sky,

weightlessness all but forgotten.

You were my moment,

or one of them,

like all the others;

but one day someone will exist

who will be more than a moment—

who will be my leap,

my chance to let go of the twisting, pinching metal

and slip away from safety

into the open air,

close my eyes to hear

blood drumming from my stomach

through tensing shoulders

to the clasp of our palms

and back again,

blink,

breathe,

hit the ground hand-in-hand

and running.

(c) 2011 Marie KR