So I was searching this morning for the wave I feel when I know I'll have something to write. I write to entertain myself. I write to be honest about things that perhaps I haven't been honest about before. I write to put things out there that I hope to be held accountable for. I write cause sometimes, I have things to say that I feel should be said. Otherwise, I write things cause I know my friends will read it and either laugh at me or hear my [passive aggressive] whimper for help. But no matter what shape the composition takes, I know fully that what I say is just me working on what I see my through own pair of shades. Fabulous shades that really accentuate my cheek bones.
So, when it's been a hot minute I sometimes find myself waiting for it; that perfect second when I hop on the forbidden fruit and can sift through the CZs and the diamonds. My plan this evening, as Nico won't be home till late, was to feed Vienna, read her bedtime stories, put on music and write something- I just didn't know what. Then the universe kicked in and serendipitously I jumped into the middle of a debate about Love. With a capital letter.
What is it? Who can have it? What are the pre-requisites? Tangible? Too damn big? Universal? Subjective.
Frankly, I think it's an imperative and stupid discussion. It must be had, this conversation that no one will fully agree on, that is never the same for anyone. It must be had because Love is a dialogue.
So, according to my life, Love has been a dialogue with The Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Yet to Come. Nico's not one of the ghosts; he's very real, constant and alive and it's comforting to talk to him. But I thank my ghosts- like Scrooge, after my interactions with them, I found my way.
Apparently this makes me Scrooge.
The Ghost of Christmas Past was a spirit with whom our dialogue started off young, hopeful and fresh. It was a long dialogue that had a foundation of good, but eroded with the trepidatious and dynamic demands of late adolescence and the early twenties. We just didn't know how to cut it off and so we dragged it down to its bones; much too prideful, too suspicious, too convoluted. It ended in a very abrupt and cowardly manner and I've never been interested enough to say another word.
I try, now that I'm here to look back with a more nostalgic lens and it's slowly getting there. It was, after all, my introduction paragraph- this relationship, this conversation that turned into a fight to the bitter end, and it did start happily. The Ghost of Christmas Past appears in cameos in my night movies but in bizarre roles, with long weird hair, or in a place he'd never really be. I chalk that up to the fact that there is no more any place for him in my life, and it is actually pretty awkward when my subconscious coughs him up from time to time. That sounded worse than I meant and I do not intend to put anything negative out there for this person. I don't really intend anything.
The Ghost of Christmas Present is a sad story and I do look back on this spirit with nostalgia and a heavy heart. It opens with instant connection, clear and like you're so close. You know those times you're on the phone with someone you know is across an ocean but due to the clarity of the call you feel like they could be down the street or upstairs? This dialogue was strong and complementary and instant but it was a clear call at a crappy time and he hung up on me.
When this spirit visits me, it's always with the open arms of a bear hug right before it closes with a start before it ever envelops me. This was a very important discussion in my formative experience with Love because it taught me how much hold you can have on a person and how important it is to stand up to that role. It taught me how literal it is for the epitaph 'there'll always be a place...' and it taught me what lack of closure really feels like. Which is why this spirit is the Ghost of Christmas Present.
Then there is the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. This is a spirit with a short story and was far from the most influential. This Ghost was the precursor. The one just before the conclusion; where you're starting to wrap it up. The type of chat where no one truly invests because it begins with the knowledge that it'll be short. We were both sides to the same dialogue because it made sense at the time and because we recognized in each other that we'd simply agree. And when there was an awkward silence neither one of us redialed after the dropped call.
He appears at times when I need to be reminded that 'light' is easy. That things don't have to be a big deal in order for them to make a difference. This spirit clinched a spot in the trinity (trilogy?) because this spirit was the final component that made the vision complete. Our few, short sentences made me appreciate light banter. The trio-logue needed a light, non earth shattering layer to balance out the debate and hopeless desire to convince. I needed this brief encounter so that I could chill the fuck out about all this and so that I could be who I am now- when it matters most- with my husband.
So, what is Love? I think it's a dialogue that you can have with a person and with the world. It's a give and take you have with yourself. It's a song. You cannot acquire Love- you cannot know it. You can not give it or take it. Love is an action. It's an instinct and a sacrifice. It's everything you've ever loved. Love is everything you will love. It's shutting up when you know someone needs silence. It's speaking louder when you know its just what they'd rather have. It's fighting for what matters. It's agreeing on what sometimes doesn't. Love is laughing in the middle of an argument. Love is having a temper tantrum. Love is hectic and placid, and soft and dense. Love is never the same on any given day between the same two people. But it can be unconditional. It is absolute, concise, and particular but has no boundaries or structure. Love is what you are.
Nico is the concluding paragraph that leaves so much to the imagination. That makes me come back wanting more. That makes me go out and buy the book cause I know the author is working on the sequel. Our dialogue is of Love in its funniest one liner, snippiest remark, deepest sentiment, its blaring silence, and it's finishing of one anothers sentences. Nico's who I roll over to be closer to when I wake up from my dreams.
I needed to know when to say when. So, thank you, Ghost of Christmas Past.
I needed to know how to deliver my perspective appropriately. I'm sorry, Ghost of Christmas Present.
I needed to know that you can take it easy. Cheers to the Ghost of Things to Come.
I needed to learn when to see the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I did the moment I first laid eyes on my husband. It was just like Christmas morning.