don't throw it away

I could be referring to garbage, recycles, old clothes, piles in the attic, unused gadgets....but I admit it...I'm doing the 'mushy' and referring to love. Don't groan! You can survive this diatribe-love makes us fools, but love is beyond enriching as well. I'll get back to art and baking tomorrow-promise! I have three quiche, bruschetta, hummus and truffles to create as well as a bunch of boards ready to be plastered and burned! (make you curious?! hungry?!)

Love. Why is it so confusing? I've been debilitated by the sudden sucking absence of it in my days. There, then gone. It filled my every moment, then became a vacant hollow, absent of everything but ache. Surprised the heck out of me. Knocked the Brooks All Terrains right out from under me-The wax encrusted paint brush from my hand-The dough splattered wisk from my grasp.

I was fine before love became the waking force in each of my days. I was walking, talking and breathing independently and fully until it rapped on the latched door to my heart. 'I don't need this and will not let it in!' I professed. Oh fool that I be....I think if you were standing next to me at the time you could've heard the fateful 'woosh' of the latched door being torn from its' hinges.

Maybe I wouldn't be this way if I'd never spied what was knocking on the other side of that cracked door. But then I wouldn't have the knowledge of it's existence. I'd be plodding along in the oblivion of assumed existence. Assumed love is there somewhere. Assumed partners exist for everyone; somehow. Assumed God has a plan for my heart that will one day, some day, manifest.

But, that's not an option anymore. No more assumptions. I've touched it, I've felt it, I've tasted it. It exists in real time and I don't want it taken out with yesterday's table scraps. My heart is starved for the rich filling up that deep connection creates in my moments. I crave the sweet fulfillment the right person brings to everything I do, say, feel and create. Everything-that much more complete in the sharing. A vulnerability I've run from for 40+ years. Foolish girl. I run to it now. Open hearted seeking more. Don't throw it away. Love. Trish