Who knew love would be my greatest mountain?

When I was a girl, I lived a life overflowing with love: the love of my parents & family, the knowledge of people who loved me many miles away that I had never met, & the love children generally have for things that bring them delight (candy, June bugs, ice cream & cake, jumping in leaves, & slumber parties to name a few).

When I hit puberty, I became strangely aware that other types of love existed. There was romantic love, crazy love, innocent love, jealous love, true love. I saw guys showering girls with flowers, balloons, teddy bears & kisses on that crazy day in February. I saw a boy (yes, a boy) shoot & kill his girlfriend because she no longer wanted to be with him. I saw girls write anonymous notes to boys revealing their innermost thoughts. I attended a 50-year wedding anniversary & a wedding vow renewal. Each of these events was centered on this idea of love that I knew nothing about nor had I experienced for myself. Which of these was the real deal?

I had my first shot at love in high school. I gave freely of my emotions & my time. I was confident & secure & found joy in each moment with my guy. Time decided that we would not fall IN love, but I will always love him for the person & friend he is to me. I did not fail at my first attempt, I just did not win.

Those co-ed years hit me like a ton of bricks. It was a rush of reality & independence all at once. I met a lot of interesting people, but finally decided to give my full attention to one in particular. He was charming to say the least. I was a snake in a basket mesmerized by his sweet nothings & brown eyes. It was great at first, but let’s just say the train derailed & never got back on track. Though the train was chugging through the dirt of the forest & destined to crash, I dared not get off for fear of walking through the wilderness alone. Needless to say, that rationale did not work either. I stayed on that train through physical confrontation, dishonesty, tears, & unfaithfulness. Was this love? After all, he did tell me those three words.

I walked away from this situation. I finally walked away from this situation. Believe me when I tell you I was bruised by this. Not in a physical sense, but emotionally bruised. I was wronged but nor was I a saint. Yeah, I said those three words. Once. In a jealous attempt to have him to myself though I really didn’t want him. This so-called love began innocently & romantically with serenades & good times. This so-called love was disfigured & warped by craziness & jealously. This so-called love was not true. I did not win my second attempt, I just lost.

Fast forward through a few jerks to my third chance at love. It began innocently & romantically; full of joy and refreshing. Unfortunately, these feelings were soon replaced with future fears. Fears that were born through the poisoning of my past experiences. I began fighting hard, getting nowhere fast & pushed deeper into an abyss of insecurity daily. The woman who seemingly had it all had nothing for she had not love. Hell, i'm still fighting. One by one, day by day, I have been climbing and conquering life's mountains. While I was eating that candy, I never could have told you that...when I was running after those June bugs, I never would have guessed that...when I was eating my ice cream & cake, jumping in those autumn leaves, & heading to my next slumber party, who knew? Out of all the mountains I would face in my lifetime, who knew that love would be my greatest mountain?