Ruination or Redemption?


"Maybe you'll fall in love with me all over again."
"Hell, I love you enough now. What do you want to do? Ruin me?"
"Yes. I want to ruin you."
"Good. That's what I want too."
                                                                                                       -Ernest Hemingway

 I smile as I read this again, a quotation which marked my life since its discovery, in reminiscence of the naive fool I used to be.

I'm not saying I'm not naive (or a fool for that matter) even now but I realize why reading this quote feels like a goodbye.

The reason is simple. Love doesn't ruin. It wasn't meant to. Love picks you up, dusts your wounds and sends you running with a grin on your face that screams, 'Life, you're loved and that fall was worth it.'

It is in the glow of the street light that caresses your cheek and is traced by hungry eyes.

In its entirety, love is incapable of being born without the realization that it comes from you only because YOU exist.

Love isn't born to wreak devastation. It is not the storm that leaves destruction in its wake. It's the sound of free wings unfurling. It's the rollicking of waves just before they break on the shore and draw in again only to come back stronger. For, Love cannot be broken. It can't be touched by the weak. It's nothing less than the fury of your cells beneath your skin that demands vulnerability.

Love is meant to set free. It's not trapped by the loneliness of possessiveness, marred by the ugly face of jealousy, stifled by the stronghold of projections. What cannot be cherished by loyalty, grow under the sunlight of happiness, nurtured by the warmth of respect, understanding and watered to satiate the thirst for trust cannot be love.

Love is indeed nothing but the 'response of a man to his highest values.'

So, thank you for letting me discover that.

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