She loves me ... she loves me not.

Every blue moon I like to leave the topic of politics. Today I would like to talk about love. Since more than half of all relationships fail, I certainly thinks is qualifies to fit into the theme of “So much trouble in the world.”

The other day I had Sunday brunch with my good friend Kathleen. She had just split with her boyfriend who was now living over three thousand miles away. It was this vast distance that in the end would split them up. Kathleen is about ten years younger than I am now, and still is quite idealistic. She is someone who very much wears her heart on her sleeve. I hope she never changes that.

We talked about how she was handling it all, and as we did she started to cry. It was very clear how much she was hurting inside. She was trying desperately to be brave, but the pain was too great to contain. It was difficult to see her so hurt, but there was also something really beautiful about it. The beauty of it was how much love she truly loved this guy with all her heart.

This conversation forced me to take a good look at myself. When I was her age, I was exactly like she is now. At that point in time, to call me a romantic and an idealist was an understatement. As a result, I found myself on several occasions heart broken and in great pain. The culmination of this came in my mid twenties when I was involved with a girl that I loved with all my heart. She was the kind of person who made the simple act of reading to each other on a train seem like the best thing in the world. However, all good things it would seem must come to an end. In that end, she betrayed me one too many times.

I decided at that point that I would consciously change myself inside. I remember saying to my old friend Rick that I was going to shut myself off emotionally. I would continue to see women, but I would never let them completely in. I had it all figured out. By doing this I would protect myself.

He wisely told me this, “You can do that Peter, and you are right … you will never really feel much pain. The problem is, good or bad, you will never feel anything at all.”

Of course, I ignored him and his good advice. As a result, I have spent the last ten years moving from one woman to the next like Tarzan swinging on vines. I can say with absolute certainty that for all this time I have never been hurt in the slightest. However, like Rick predicted, I have not felt anything whatsoever. It is a cold existence, which I do not recommend to anyone.

A few months ago I went to the funeral of my friend Rick. Cancer took care of him. As I sat there looking at his coffin and his weeping family members, I realized that I needed to finally listen to what he told me. The problem is that once you turn yourself off, it is not so easy to just turn things back on. There is no switch to flick. It is something more than that. Something I have not completely figured out yet, but I intend to try. Perhaps it will merely take someone very special to thaw me out again.

There is something really amazing about giving yourself completely over to someone. Trusting them with all your heart and baring your soul. It does leave you vulnerable, but there is a true beauty in that vulnerability.

Some people see that act as one of weakness, but they are wrong. Weakness is feeling the need to shut down. Weakness is running and hiding from life and love. When I look at Kathleen I see the old me. I see someone who still believes in love and trust. If I can, I intend to find that person again. I hope he is still in there somewhere. I am sorry Rick that it took me so long to realize how right you were.




Everything that lives
Lives not alone, nor for itself.
—William Blake