Love is rare.
Real actual meaningful love.
The kind that feels like home.
The kind that is a steady heartbeat.
The kind that makes you wonder how in the world you got so lucky.
It’s easy to like someone.
Easy to fall in infatuation.
Easy to fall in lust.
Love is so much rarer than that.
Love is so much more effort than that.
Love is so much more permanent than that.
Finding that person is special.
Finding them is beautiful.
Maybe everyone doesn’t get that person because it is so unique.
Those who beat the odds give me hope.
The ones who know that their love is rare make me wonder how rare it truly is.
Today, I went to a wedding. More specifically, I was a bridesmaid in a wedding. It was short, sweet, and small. As soon as I walked in the door, I was greeted hastily by the bride’s mother and though I haven’t seen her in many years, she lit up instantly and asked me to make the bouquets and boutonnieres. I agreed happily, relieved that I could do something useful, and admired how they managed to do so much with so little. They created a Harry Potter themed wedding all on their own in a small room with a small budget and a small family.
I kept thinking, this is how it should be. Close friends and family coming together to truly celebrate a mostly-happy-but-kind-of-bittersweet moment. Not a room of distant family members you’ve never actually met, strict schedules, overpriced food and decorations, just family.
In light of today’s events, I wanted to write about love. Which, yeah isn’t all that different from what I usually do, but this one isn’t fiction. I wanted to write about real emotions, not a fantasy version.
I don’t know how it happens, or how often it truly does, but when two people meet and they’re truly compatible in all the ways that make their relationship work like nothing else, it’s something to be celebrated because the chances of that seems so rare. Nearly impossible, maybe. Definitely beautiful.
I realized this during the bride and groom’s first dance. The first note played and I immediately recognized the song. I’ve been in love once, and that song was ours. How funny that a song that had belonged to me and the only person I’ve really been in love with, was now theirs. Even though it’s been a long time since we’ve broken up and I am long over him, I sang along to every word in a mix of bittersweet emotion because I still don’t know how it is so easy to fall in love with people so wrong for you in the first place. I don’t know how it’s so easy to fall in love with people who will never love you back. I don’t know how it’s so hard to fall in love with people so right for you. I don’t know how it’s so hard to fall in love at the right time for you both. The list goes on.
Love is painful and difficult and I wish I understood it better. I often wonder if, maybe, it isn’t worth it. That the idea of falling in love is way better than the reality.
I can’t make myself stop dreaming of holding hands, spontaneous kisses, and those endless butterflies in my stomach, but that’s not real love. It’s all wonderful and of course I wish I had it, but there is something more important, more permanent: when you truly know this is the right person for me. When you find someone that you’re compatible with in the really big and important ways, someone that makes it easy to be yourself, someone that makes you want to be the very best version of yourself, someone who is so much more than just a person to show affection to.
I want to fall in love like that. If I can’t, I’d rather not waste my time. The whole concept of “true love” isn’t as fairytale-esque as it seems. Infatuation, being in love, lust, love; they are all entirely different things. All important, but love is the only one that has the power to really stick with you forever. Everything else can fade, but loving somebody doesn’t have to. Finding someone you can do that with is what’s so rare and beautiful.