Love, people. Just, love.

Why do I always write about love?

Someone recently asked me this question. No doubt, you might have asked it yourself. That answer is a work in progress, like me. I  guess that's why I write about it... or why I write in general.

Because it drives everything I do, see, touch, feel, taste, hear.

But the simple answer is that my heart and soul are on fire and have tasted the possibilities and while I may feel pretty sure I am just fine on my own, the truth is we were put here for each other and are not meant to be alone. Maybe that's not so simple, after all - but it feels like truth to me.

I write about love to understand...
...to learn.
...to teach.
...to inspire.
...because I am inspired.
...to exorcise demons.
...to grow.
...in case it resonates with and helps someone else not feel alone.
...because it is cathartic.
...because The Beatles taught me that it was all you need.
...because it is magic, basic, primary, healing, beautiful, surrender...
...because love needs love, too - and without it, even love dies.
...because it really does make the world go 'round.
...because it IS the ultimate outlaw, and it just won't adhere to any rules.
...because it is the universal humbler, creator, destroyer, and savior of man and womankind.
...and because I have found the more I love, the more love I see in the world and in others and in myself and things just get exponentially better - even when they suck...cause, truth is, things are still gonna suck sometimes.

Love makes the ride a hellofa lot better than hate, indifference, fear, or anger....or heaven forbid - emptiness. (shudder)

And I write because I'm getting to know myself...
...because I really want to be a writer and am practicing exposing myself.
...because sometimes I can't do anything but write.
...because I can't paint or draw or sing. These are my pictures. My songs. My sculptures. Elementary as they may be.
...to develop my truths. And to reinforce them. (to myself)
...because I am in love with words.
...because I suck at expressing myself verbally.

...and finally, I write about love because I was raised to believe that I didn't deserve it and that I wasn't good enough to be loved.

Fuck that.
I am.
And so are you. All of you.
And anyone who tells you otherwise...well, forgive them.  They are just broken, you can't fix them, just let them be and keep on believing. Maybe even love them a little if you can. The alternative is to become like them.  I beg you - DON'T.

But the trick seems to be in first realizing that I/you/we deserve love...then slowly coming to accept it...then changing our brain patterns to believe it...then figuring out how to welcome it and embrace it - and return it. 
I am still working on those last parts. It's a beautiful journey, I must tell you. I'm enjoying every step.

I write.
I love.
I write about love. Because, it whispers gently to me that it wants to be known. And I want to know it.  I think we'd be great, great friends. We already are.  We're just getting comfortable with each other.