You didn’t love her. You just didn’t want to be alone. Or maybe, maybe she was good for your ego. Or maybe she made you feel better about your miserable life, but you didn’t love her, because you don’t destroy the person that you love.
The truth is that the more intimately you know someone, the more clearly you’ll see their flaws. That’s just the way it is. This is why marriages fail, why children are abandoned, why friendships don’t last. You might think you love someone until you see the way they act when they’re out of money or under pressure or hungry, for goodness’ sake. Love is something different. Love is choosing to serve someone and be with someone in spite of their filthy heart. Love is patient and kind, love is deliberate. Love is hard. Love is pain and sacrifice, it’s seeing the darkness in another person and defying the impulse to jump ship.
I no longer wish to be loved childishly. I want to be loved with the strength and charm of maturity. I don’t want to be smothered by the fear of jealousy and insecurities. I don’t want a relationship based solely upon shutting the world out and locking each other in. I want to be somewhere where I can breathe. Where, even in the midst of a million people with a million heartbeats surrounding me, I can still know the sound or even play the tune, or nod my head to the rhythm of the one I call “home.” I want to call you home.
—If I Could Change Your Mind
IF I COULD CHANGE YOUR MIND