Not a lot of people acknowledge that they are loved. It is a universal truth as solid and grounding as gravity itself that everyone is loved; even if it’s only by their dogs or the landlord. Someone, somewhere, does wonder if you’re ok, if you’ll catch up with them soon, maybe if you still have that cute tartan bag they could borrow for a bit, or if you’ll ever update that blog of yours. And yet we carry on our days, blissfully caught in our own little bubbles, unintentionally ignorant of these people.
Some say we are islands. Lone individuals in a vast and interesting network of islands. That we should have the right to enjoy our freedom, our independence, our privacy and our solitude. That we should enjoy being able to do whatever we want, however we want in any space that we call our own. Chilled drinks on tables without coasters, picture frames asymmetrically hung, unsuppressed farts and burps, having the light switches facing a certain direction in the off position, having all the “me” time you could possible imagine…whatever tickles your fancy. That this autonomy is worth living for, is worth fighting for, is worth dying for.
Granted, it *is* as amazing and rejuvenating as people say it is…to a point. Then you realize, it doesn’t matter if you can put your drink on the table when your cup is the only one that’s ever there…it doesn’t matter that you can burp disgustingly if no one is there to be disgusted or commend you on the brilliance of your burping ability. We were born into families, whether we like them or not. We are pack animals by nature. We work in companies, we build trade alliances, we import and export to share profits and cultures. We need other people as much as you hate to admit it (just think how miserable you were when you were single for extended periods in your life). We are unique as compared to other people, we are independent of other people, we are distinguished from other people. So you see, it is only through these other people that we are indeed, special, individual and distinct.
My point is…love the people that love you. Even if they love you in the wrong way, whether they nag too much, or they’re too clingy/demanding, or they aren’t communicative enough…they’re still loving you the best way they can, in spite of everything you do to forget that fact. (Of course, if that is the case, you should talk to them and teach them how to love you.) But always remember, they are there for you in ways that you can’t imagine; someday their actions will catch your breathe and make you cry for joy, other days they will frustrate you to no end with all their wrong ways of loving.
It has been a pleasure to have loved, even if I’ve lost some of you along the way. To all those I’ve loved and, in return, have reciprocated the love in any way, shape and form, rest in the knowledge that you would be good, no matter what. Here’s to you and to many more years basking in your uniqueness.
That I would be good even if I did nothing,
That I would be good even if I got the thumbs down,
That I would be good if I got and stayed sick,
That I would be good even if I gained ten pounds,
That I would be fine even if I went bankrupt,
That I would be good if I lost my hair and my youth,
That I would be great if I was no longer queen,
That I would be grand if I was not all knowing,
That I would be loved even when I numb myself,
That I would be good even when I am overwhelmed,
That I would be loved even when I was fuming,
That I would be good even if I was clingy,
That I would be good even if I lost sanity,
That I would be good whether with or without you.
– Alanis Morrisette “That I would be good”
And in your gratitude, remember that you can’t force someone to love you. You can only be someone they can love; the rest is up to them.