I miss his love. Our love was a big, giant love. It was real and true just like he was. It was the type of love that I always dreamed of falling into. And, living without it has been the hardest thing I have ever done. *Sigh.
I will always remember how good it felt to be loved by Mike. Being loved by him has made me a huge Fan Girl of love. And, sometimes I wish that I could be content with the love I still have in my life, but I’m not.
Yes, I still have love in my life; and, yes, I am familiar with the concept of self love too. But, despite all the love I have it all seems to fall flat. It is just not enough because it is not the same as the love I had with Mike.
Self love feels soft and gentle. Self love holds you like a familiar hug. It is good and powerful stuff; but, it is not enough for me. I know some people preach that love comes from within and they might be right; but I liked the love Mike gave me. His love fit me just right. Mike oozed unconditional love for me. He steadily built his life around me, and nothing and no one came before me in his world. I didn’t do anything to “deserve” this type of undying love. I simply had it.
All the while I was Mike’s Girl, I didn’t have to channel love from within because I had it in spades from him. His love was bold and loud and filled with passion. I grew used to that type of big love. When Mike died, he left me with pianissimo love. But, this girl craves fortissimo love. I want the loud all consuming love he gave to me. I will always want this love.
Sure, it is important that we love ourselves. It’s always been this way. Self love is good and necessary. I get it. But, I don’t really care to delve into ministering self love. I want easy love. I want the effortless love I shared with Mike back. I am not interested in mining for some long lost love from somewhere within myself. I am too tired for that; and, besides, the love this type of exploring yields is not as warm and comforting as Mike’s love.
Even when he was alive I had a hunch that I should have been practicing better and more self love. But, I didn’t bother. Instead, mostly, I relied on receiving love from Mike. And, now, without him, I’m learning that I am responsible for manifesting my own love. Living alone, I have been forced to love myself more adequately. The love I gave to Mike, I now give to others, including myself.
In the past, I gave my love to him and in return I received his love back. There was a predictable pattern of reciprocity. This was not a bad thing; however, it never forced me to flex my self love muscle very hard.
Now, without him, I have been made to create love from within. This does not come easy to me because I am not creating self love from muscle memory. I am hungry for love; but, I was never fed a diet of self love so I don’t know how to best prepare it or serve it up. I am poorly equipped and inexperienced; and, it shows badly.
I am unsure how to sustain myself on self love alone. I grew used to regular servings of Mike’s love; and, now, I am adapting to a strange sustenance that never seems to fill me the way his love once did. No matter how much love I feed to myself, I am never fully satisfied. I am not content on a diet of self love. The love I have for myself is hearty and solid, but it does not appeal to me like Mike’s love. His love was pure and my version of self love feels manufactured. At best I am force feeding love to myself. It feels awkward and lacklustre; and it is nowhere near as good as the love I shared with Mike, but it’s what I’ve got. It is a start.