Nested within love

They say love makes the world go around. And they say love can move mountains. Love, the energy of which is supposed to have caused miracles, is the garden where my heart nests.

This garden, with all its fruit and poison, was definitely not created overnight. It was a garden that I was born out of, and into - as my parents' love guided the path to my conception. They planted me; supported me and nourished me; as I grew like a sapling sucking up all the love that surrounded me abundantly.

Drawing out of love, growing in love; I was but made of love. When I grew into an adolescent tree, I searched around with all my naivete, to share this love. I wanted to feel my heart and embrace my existence. Through the school years, I fondly gave plenty of it to my best friend who grew closer to me day by day. It seemed to me, that life could have been complicated; that it does bring with it its roller coasters, but with my heart so securely buckled to the love of my friend; there's no gale or thunderstorm that could as much as hurt a branch. I yearned for acceptance when I tried to kiss and embrace my fellow-tree. It seemed odd to me at that point in life that anyone could be resistant to the warmth of love or the denseness of it. Experience speaks otherwise as we grow. I'm not saying my love was not accepted. It was accepted as long as it lasted. But it never asked for more, nor gave me more. The transaction felt incomplete.

I learned slowly that love abides by its own rules. When we try to understand lovers, we must understand these rules. Often I think of love as the energy that helps one swim across the lake of relationships. When love is left incomplete, when this energy runs out in between, one has no choice but to sink. And my heart did sink.

As my heart sank more and more, I lost more of my innocence; and I stopped believing in love. For three years I tried to resurrect my heart. It remembered the love, and the addiction kept it propelled. And one day; sure enough; it swam itself into another pond of love - the growing tree that I was, had found another lover- tree.

This new found fellow mate captured me. It undid the walls of thorn that surrounded my heart slowly. I was falling in love and the thorns were being picked away. It felt fresh and new; wholesome and nourishing; as waves of love gushed into my heart. My lover ensured that my heart grew out of the love and healed its wounds. My poor little heart was becoming addicted to this newly discovered elixir that it was so eagerly drinking out of. And the more it grew, the more it radiated its love. It gave back willingly and heavily, in complete belief that this was the undying source of love. It found its new nest and settled in as a little fledgling would - naked, revealed and powerless. Little did it know of what was to come.

Soon enough my lover decided to share the elixir with another heart that might have wandered in - only this time the surrounding garden openly encouraged and nourished this new relationship. My little heart was so tucked away under blankets of secrecy and stigma. It was refused any other source of nourishment; except this one pond of love. It grew stifled, full, heavy and desperate. It wanted to re-build the walls of protection; but too late - the love had done its damage. It grew heavier and heavier till the whole system was close to collapsing. My lover was confused. My mate tree had assumed it was whole enough to cover two fledgling hearts, that there was enough place for two; but in the process one of the hearts had to pay heavily and unfortunately it was mine.

My heart finally fled the pond of love, I grew outwards leaving the familiar patches and into newer sunshine. I shunned the addiction and the pain. I tried to heal.

But like all tragic love transactions, this one was left incomplete too; only my heart had fallen deeper and the wounds are fresher. It lost a lot in this feud as it tried its best not to sink; as soon as the love-energy propeller decided to rust. It fled and it swam; and paid heavily. The addiction was too strong, and my heart still yearns for the pond of love and my lover.

Strangely enough; the pond of love seemed to miss this tiny fledgling heart too. My lover-tree had often embraced the love of this poor heart. It is hard for me to judge the feelings of my lover-tree; but sure enough part of it wilted in the feud.

Love, my heart learned, is experience. It is holy and divine; but its power is beyond moving mountains or making the world go around. I now grow in a not-so loving environment as I once did; away from the familiar patches. But I grow slowly and heal my heart steadily. There are times I wonder if I was really meant to be with the pond of love I wandered into; and to date I've never found an answer. Both me and my lover wilted through the years; growing out of other pieces of nourishment, but to me it is clear that as long as this transaction remains incomplete, I must but fight to stay afloat.