(Romantic) Love is . . .

When It Don't Come Easy
by Patty Griffin

Red lights are flashing on the highway
I wonder if we're gonna ever get home
I wonder if we're gonna ever get home tonight
Everywhere the waters getting rough
Your best intentions may not be enough
I wonder if we're gonna ever get home tonight

But if you break down
I'll drive out and find you
If you forget my love
I'll try to remind you
And stand by you when it don't come easy

I don't know nothing except change will come
Year after year what we do is undone
Time keeps moving from a crawl to a run
I wonder if we're gonna ever get home

You're out there walking down a highway
And all of the signs have blown away
Sometimes you wonder if you're walking in the wrong direction

But if you break down
I'll drive out and find you
If you forget my love
I'll try to remind you
And stay by you when it don't come easy

So many things that I had before
They don't matter to me now
Tonight I cry for the love that I've lost
And the love I've never found
When the last bird falls
And the last siren sounds
Someone will say what's been said before
It was love we were looking for

But if you break down
I'll drive out and find you
If you forget my love
I'll try to remind you
And stay by you when it don't come easy

I’ve decided I don’t know. I don’t know what love “is.” I thought I did. The irony is I do think I “give” a lot of love, but I really don’t know what love is.

I’m watching this PBS program about “love” and all the different kinds of love, but have decided I really don’t know anything about it.

Of course, they have to do a story about the singer/songwriter girl from Colorado who meets her singer/songwriter boy from Texas . . .

One of the best quotes from the show goes something like: “Marriage is the longest conversation that always seems too short.”

And many of all these stories of people falling in love via the Internet, fate (e.g., on an airplane or while visiting Italy) only perplex me further.

I’ve pursued it, ignored it and decided I don’t even need to live with it, and yet it always – ultimately – eludes me/pursues me.

And, approaching 50 years of age, I just seem to be further from “it:” love, than ever.

I guess I always thought I would make beautiful music with someone special. The reality is I don’t know how to make beautiful music.

Whatever the reason, I’m unable to draw men to me anymore. I’m disappointed, but I accept it.

No. I don’t think this is as simple as “Like attracts like.” Meaning, I’m not single because I’m only attracting ‘loss’ or ‘emptiness.’ I just truly believe there’s no one for me. So, of course, you can say: “Well! There you go! You’ve decided ‘There’s no one for you.’ So, guess what? There’s no one for you.”

No. It’s really that I’m odder than I thought. I don’t ‘fit in.’ And, I’m not feeling sorry for myself. It’s just an “acceptance.” There’s no one interested in loving me who I find interesting, too.

I mean, most people are ‘like’ other people. They share common interests. I don’t. Trust me! I’ve tried, but I don’t ‘like’ what most people like. And, it’s not that I ‘hate’ these things, I just don’t get them. And, that’s the rub! These are things that are the ‘glue’ of society and include things like: dogs, sports, crowds, religion, politics, etc. These are things I don’t ‘get’ the way others do and share. And, without that bond how can you have an acquaintance, a friendship, never mind a life-long, intimate relationship with another person?

Yes. There has been music. And, that – finally – drew some special people to me, but it was fleeting and based on ‘failed’ love.

And, ultimately, it doesn’t matter. But, it does perplex me. I thought I’d be one of those people who would have true, lasting love: the longest conversation that always seems too short.

And, with all that said, I dreamed last night that I had a conversation with “The Love of My Lives.” It totally caught me off guard. It wasn’t anything new, except we actually ‘talked’ in my dream. We never usually ‘talk’ in my dreams. And, he smiled. And, I remembered. And, I remembered every detail of what it was like to ‘be’ with him. I hate that, because I remember everything.

He was assuring me that he loved me, but he had to see his current love through. And I just was trying to tell him that I understood that, but that I wish I could find someone to be with in the meantime.

And, I’m left with the question: “What does it all mean?”

Love is . . . I don’t know . . .

P.S. I remembered how much I enjoyed talking with him and seeing him smile.