Some time in June 2020
I just finished watching The Photograph a tear jerking love story starring Issa Rae and Lakeith Stanfield. I fell asleep during the second part and was alert during the first half so that I could piece together the story and the parts I missed in the final third. I cried throughout the whole 3rd part. So much pain. So much love. I feel like in order to have one you must have the other. I think. But that’s not why I am writing or maybe it is.
If I am honest with myself I want to be in love. I want to give love and receive it in all its’ forms. I want to be held and to hold. I want to be caressed and to offer the same. If I am honest with myself I have felt that love from the community, from friends, from strangers in the forms of prayers, libations, rituals, food and immeasurable offerings. But i want some of that other love too.
If I am honest with myself I know that all these loves are the same love. They are not any different except in my head. I have received overwhelming love from the community as a result of what I have given. I have received and encountered that other kind of love too. I especially would like some of that kind of love right now.
But I know why this love has missed me. And the answer is rather simple. It has evaded me because of my lack of love for myself. I am not saying I don’t love myself. But I am saying that I haven’t loved myself completely, wholesomely, whole heartedly. Self Love is really all I need.