What Keeps You Up At Night
He asked me, “what’s keeping you up at night, what’s on your mind?”
I didn’t have an answer, so I shrugged my shoulders and said “I don’t know.”
Suddenly, laying here not sleeping yet again, staring into the dark, it became crystal clear.
It’s love. Love keeps me up at night.
I had love once. The kind of love that every woman dreams of. Unconditional love. Kisses on the forehead kind of love. Helps me realize that I’m irritable because my period is coming in two days kind of love. Saw me at my worst, at my darkest, at my lowest, and still loved me kind of love. It’s crazy to me how I never got tired of spending time with him kind of love. He loved my kids like they were his own and the feeling was reciprocal kind of love. The kind of love that inspires song writers to write songs that become classics that stand the test of time.
But I lost that love. And I understand why. It needed to happen. Breaking up was the best thing to do. It was hard for him too, but he made sure it was a clean break. He was the strong one. I would’ve sold my soul to the devil to keep that love. I’d never been loved like that before.
And I’m afraid I’ll never experience that kind of love again.
And that’s what keeps me up at night.
And, truth be told, I can look back and see that’s why I’ve sabotaged some relationships that may have even slightly looked like they could be headed towards being that kind of love. It was as if somehow I felt like I didn’t deserve to have it again. It was fear. I was afraid to have it again, because it hurt like hell to lose it the first time. I never thought what if, never allowed myself to imagine the glass could be half full.
But then I had to ask myself, why would God show me that kind of love and take it from me? He’s not that cruel. God is love. I can only believe that He showed me that kind of love so when He gives it to me again, it’ll be instantly recognizable. As familiar as a well-worn pair of leather shoes and as comfortable as a favorite pair of jeans.
And until that kind of love walks, trips, stumbles, or crashes into my life again, I guess I’ll just have to write about it. I’ll dig deep into my memory, conjure up those feelings, blurry them up until they’re almost unrecognizable, and put them into my books.
That’s what keeps me up at night.
I’m waiting for love.
And I’ve been having trouble sleeping for years.
I hope that I don’t get old and gray waiting. I want to be young enough to make lots of memories. To see the world, to dance, to experience all that life has to offer. But even if I’m old and gray and our time together is short, I’ll be so thankful to experience that kind of love again, before I leave this earth. I’m so sure it’s the closest thing to God’s love. And I’ll be sure to cherish it just as much the second time around as I did the first.
Wishing you love this morning,
Angela
