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Jun. 3rd, 2007 12:11 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
dedra.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tamingthemuseTitle: Love
Pairing: None
Rating: G
Summary: Sometimes, the only explanation is that it is.
Author's Note: What started out as something else morphed into this. I dedicate it to my muse and the best thing that ever happened to me--my girlfriend Sandy. Fifteen years and going strong, she is my reason and I don't know what I would do without her. As this story plainly states, sometimes there is no other explanation than it is. Happy anniversary, Muse of mine.
Love, true love, does not exist in real life like it’s shown in the movies. There are no hearts and flowers, no chirping birds and violins playing soft strains of Bach and Mozart.
Real love, the love of everyday people, comes from the struggles and triumphs that erupt from the everyday chaos of living. It can be something as insignificant as putting the seat down on the toilet or something as momentous as buying a ring, but the ways of love are measured not in leaps, but in micrometers the width of a human hair.
They say that love is patient and kind. Love is also rushed and heartless, striking at the least opportune moment. It can be difficult and twisted as a rope or smooth and silent like the hush that falls over a rapt audience. It can be as wild as the sea, full of bluster and passion, or the choice the Argos made between Scylla and Charibdys, the desperate drive for life.
It can be all or nothing.
Some never find the type of love that I speak of—passionate, breathless, all-encompassing and heartfelt. The love that completes you, makes you whole in ways that you never realized you were missing.
Such was a love between the two of them. They found each other on a balmy January morning as they started on a path of greater knowledge, introduced by a neighbor who felt the spark between them before they knew of it themselves. They rode to college classes together, sharing rides to ease the financial burden and finding compatriot souls to share as well.
There were many obstacles to overcome, many choices that were harder to make than either one of them believed. When it finally was confessed, one to another, there was an initial shock to surpass as they tread the virgin ground between them, seeking paths that were hidden and trails yet to be blazed before they would finally be together.
There were arguments and silences that destroyed their hearts, even as they beat as one. It hurt more to be apart than it did to be together so they made an agreement, a pact that nothing would break their bond again. They stood against the storms of life and trials that would befall them back to back, protective of the budding emotions that lodged in their throats and threatened release at inopportune moments. They were one and the world would have to accept it or turn away.
Life went on. There were bills to pay and children to raise, jobs to work and loved ones to bury as they passed beyond to another life. There were vocal and silent opposition to their union from many quarters, all ignored and unheard over the roar of their hearts. As the world continued around them, their world grew to include mortgages, taxes, illnesses and surgeries. Bodies aged, but hearts remain young as long as hearts will and they found comfort in each others’ arms and solace in their love for one another.
Their love snuck up on them and surprised them, but it took root and grew as time passed. It was nurtured by shared hopes and dreams and watered by tears, both happy and sad.
It was enough. It was always enough. Enough to make them fight for it against the odds, enough to succor when the rest of the world was against them, and enough to share when the world discovered that it was too strong to break.
Love is hard and tough. True love takes the blows and transforms them into the taps of a smith’s hammer to mold the feeling into something that is beautiful and fits perfectly into life. Love is harsh—it rejects its opponents and forces them to see what is. Love is blind to sex, color, gender or looks. It sees the heart within and celebrates it.
Love is. That’s really all that matters.
Damned LJ wouldn't let me post the first time--I'll try it again...
Pairing: None
Rating: G
Summary: Sometimes, the only explanation is that it is.
Author's Note: What started out as something else morphed into this. I dedicate it to my muse and the best thing that ever happened to me--my girlfriend Sandy. Fifteen years and going strong, she is my reason and I don't know what I would do without her. As this story plainly states, sometimes there is no other explanation than it is. Happy anniversary, Muse of mine.
Love, true love, does not exist in real life like it’s shown in the movies. There are no hearts and flowers, no chirping birds and violins playing soft strains of Bach and Mozart.
Real love, the love of everyday people, comes from the struggles and triumphs that erupt from the everyday chaos of living. It can be something as insignificant as putting the seat down on the toilet or something as momentous as buying a ring, but the ways of love are measured not in leaps, but in micrometers the width of a human hair.
They say that love is patient and kind. Love is also rushed and heartless, striking at the least opportune moment. It can be difficult and twisted as a rope or smooth and silent like the hush that falls over a rapt audience. It can be as wild as the sea, full of bluster and passion, or the choice the Argos made between Scylla and Charibdys, the desperate drive for life.
It can be all or nothing.
Some never find the type of love that I speak of—passionate, breathless, all-encompassing and heartfelt. The love that completes you, makes you whole in ways that you never realized you were missing.
Such was a love between the two of them. They found each other on a balmy January morning as they started on a path of greater knowledge, introduced by a neighbor who felt the spark between them before they knew of it themselves. They rode to college classes together, sharing rides to ease the financial burden and finding compatriot souls to share as well.
There were many obstacles to overcome, many choices that were harder to make than either one of them believed. When it finally was confessed, one to another, there was an initial shock to surpass as they tread the virgin ground between them, seeking paths that were hidden and trails yet to be blazed before they would finally be together.
There were arguments and silences that destroyed their hearts, even as they beat as one. It hurt more to be apart than it did to be together so they made an agreement, a pact that nothing would break their bond again. They stood against the storms of life and trials that would befall them back to back, protective of the budding emotions that lodged in their throats and threatened release at inopportune moments. They were one and the world would have to accept it or turn away.
Life went on. There were bills to pay and children to raise, jobs to work and loved ones to bury as they passed beyond to another life. There were vocal and silent opposition to their union from many quarters, all ignored and unheard over the roar of their hearts. As the world continued around them, their world grew to include mortgages, taxes, illnesses and surgeries. Bodies aged, but hearts remain young as long as hearts will and they found comfort in each others’ arms and solace in their love for one another.
Their love snuck up on them and surprised them, but it took root and grew as time passed. It was nurtured by shared hopes and dreams and watered by tears, both happy and sad.
It was enough. It was always enough. Enough to make them fight for it against the odds, enough to succor when the rest of the world was against them, and enough to share when the world discovered that it was too strong to break.
Love is hard and tough. True love takes the blows and transforms them into the taps of a smith’s hammer to mold the feeling into something that is beautiful and fits perfectly into life. Love is harsh—it rejects its opponents and forces them to see what is. Love is blind to sex, color, gender or looks. It sees the heart within and celebrates it.
Love is. That’s really all that matters.
Damned LJ wouldn't let me post the first time--I'll try it again...
