“Are you sure you’re in love with him?”
“Yes, I mean, I told him the other night, ‘I’m falling in love with you again’.”
“Hm, ok but..”
but maybe it wasn’t love.
that’s what she was trying to tell me. as kindly as she could. i was too caught up, enveloped in my self-created self-consuming drama of being or not being with him, i couldn’t tell that’s what she meant. i thought i truly loved him. i believed i loved him. i felt it. my heart skipped, my lips smiled, my eyes twinkled, all at once, whenever he walked in. but then she explained the endorphins and the chemicals, and our bodies and human nature. i nodded, agreed with her, and thought how interesting, how many people must she have fallen in love with. completely disassociating myself– what i felt was different. honest. real. from the beginning continued till now.
and i felt heartbreak i truly did.
But she made me question it, and now I feel another break, pinch of reality, the possibility that my love for him was never complete; maybe just embers that were fueled nightly by our bodies.