Love.

The longer you love someone,

The more you realize how hard they are to love.

~

I remembered today

That Love didn't have to stay.

When it arrived, I could have

pretended not to hear the door bell

or shoved it away,

I suppose,

if I wanted to.

I didn't welcome it in but it snuck through the backdoor (which I'd left unlocked) and before I knew it, Love was sitting comfortably on my couch.

It was eating my food and spending my money! I could have stood my ground. I could have kicked it out then and there.

For some time I just observed it. We never talked, but before I knew it I had told everyone I knew about it.

Although it was a plague on my existance, I soon began to love Love. We'd sit by the fire for hours, warm in our togetherness, and we seemed so similar that Love felt like a part of me.

Love wasn't a polite guest.

Time and time again it would wreck entire rooms and after a while I made no effort to clean it up. I sometimes got mad at Love but it never acknowledged me when I did. I lost my voice yelling at it while it smiled innocently and continued reading its book. My house guest would not be going anywhere anytime soon.

My friends knew that Love was hurting me, but I felt responsible for it so I began making excuses as to why it hadn't left. I made excuses to myself as well; even though I wanted to get rid of it, I didn't want it to leave.

Today I watched Love devour the last of my provisions and not bother to clean up the crumbs it left on the floor. I thought, what if I just asked it to leave? There are so many others who'd be glad to have love, even just as company.

Today, Love spoke to me directly for the first time. I had wandered into its room, only to discover it was packing its bags.

"I know when I'm not wanted," Love said simply.

I don't know when it will finish packing. With Love some things take an awfully long time. I just hope it shuts the door on its way out.