I feel foolish seeking love from mere mortals—
Humans still fumbling through life without laughter.
I fail to see how I am guilty of the same sin for which I blame them,
For I do not reciprocate the love I receive as expected.
Perhaps I should define love on my own terms so that I don’t have such high expectations.
Flowers are beautiful, date nights are magical, road trips bring solace.
Do these embody the love I yearn for?
Or is there a specific affection I crave to label as love?
What shapes my perception of love now?
Is it the love I witnessed in my parents’ bond,
Or the surreal love depicted in TV dramas?
How will I recognize love? Will I acknowledge it when it’s in front of me?
I’ve experienced it firsthand; it was like oxygen, and once it was taken away, I struggled to breathe.
I will not settle for what seems like halfhearted affection.
My feelings have matured to understand that love is the noblest quality,
And I have every right to expect the love I wholeheartedly offer in return.
Love, to me, is trust; entrust me with your deepest emotions and truest self.
Love entails shielding me from my fears and embracing my imperfections.
Love, to us, is patient and kind; it does not envy or boast, nor is it proud.
It is not self-seeking or easily angered; it keeps hoping and persevering.
Thats the love we yearn for
This beautiful piece was co-written with my dear friend Esther and we had the opportunity to present it in BlackTones- A community for black and brown storytellers.
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