Where was I when they handed out knowing you are loved?

Don’t hold yourself like that, cause you’ll hurt your knees.

I kissed your mouth and back that’s all I need.

Don’t build your world around volcanoes, they melt you down.

What I am to you, is not real,

What I am to you, you do not need

What I am to you, is not what you mean to me.

Give me miles and miles of mountains and I’ll ask for the sea.

 

Don’t throw yourself like that in front of me

I kissed your mouth, your back, is that all you need?

Don’t drag my love around…

What I give to you is just what your going through,

This is nothing new, just another phase of what I really need is what makes me bleed, but like a new disease, she’s still too young to treat.

Damien Rice – Volcano

 

At the moment, I love this song. It resonates within the core of my being, moves me in a way that is pure and true. Perhaps it’s because I have been feeling a powerful urge to change my feelings about love.

 

I admit, I am a cynic.

 

I think, for the most part, my friends and family think I am pessimistic about love and relationships, but this is a misconception.  After all, being a cynic does not mean that you deny the existence of something, merely that you are mistrusting of it. I cannot, will not, deny the existence of love. I very much believe it exists, for I have seen it first hand. I would be the ultimate hypocrite if I denied the existence thereof.

 

Anyone who have met my parents or grandparents, or who have listened to me talk about them, will understand that I have no qualm with the idea that real love is out there. My grandparents were married for over 60 years before my beloved grandfather passed away. My parents have been married for over 35 years, and I cannot imagine a better example of true love. My best friend got married when she was 20, and 3 years on, despite what the pessimists said, is more in love today than when she just met her husband.

 

I am not negative. I freely admit that love is out there, and that all the clichés apply of that when you least expect it, it will come, and that it’s like a butterfly… Blah. Blah. Blah.

 

Yet, after careful consideration over the past 13 years, I have no trust left for love. The difference, you ask? The difference is that even though I know it exists, and I do not deny there is a possibility that it could happen to me, I just don’t trust it, nor do I trust it’s intentions.

 

Strangely, I cannot pin this on the amount of times I have been hurt or on any man. Sure, relationships hurt, regardless of how or why it ends, but I don’t blame anyone for my distrust. I have loved before, and will love again many times in the future, I’m sure of this. Yet, even when I’m in relationship filled with love, I know I don’t trust it to last. I go in with the distinct notion that as great as it is, it will eventually run it’s course and end. I don’t know what’s wrong with me that I don’t trust love. I don’t know where I was the day that they handed out the knowing you are loved.

 

 

The irony of it all is that I trust people implicitly. It seems out of character for a true cynic, but I trust someone until they irrevocably prove me otherwise, and even then I am an advocate for forgiveness.

 

So why, when I can trust someone absolutely, can I not trust love?

 

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