Love

It says a lot about the fickle, ever-changing nature of life that the day after I write about abuse, the meaning of love is on my mind. The contrast likely has a lot to do with it, too. Thank goodness for life's surprise blessings.

It is hard for me to say if this is how I've always been, but at least after having had anorexia, I find I am not at all driven by bodily desires. While in some ways I feel cheated, I also feel that being freed from corporeal temptations allows me to discover purer goods. I know that if I fall in love with someone, it really is due to an emotional and spiritual connection, not mere physicality.

The reason I am feeling blessed today is that there is a certain someone in my life who, I believe, feels the way I do. This person (whom I shall call "X") loves me, I am sure, for reasons that far exceed my exterior. X has loved me during all of the difficult circumstances that have surrounded my life recently. X has seen my face awash with teary makeup and loved it just as much as its clearer, brighter version. X has promised to be at my side in a moment's noticed and proved it consistently. I really believe that X has taught me the meaning of love, for he has loved me unconditionally, without asking anything in return.