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Shalom Harlow at Atelier Versace Spring Summer 1996
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I wait every year for summer, and it is usually good, but it is never as good as that summer I am always waiting for.
Martha Gellhorn, in a letter to Hortense Flexner and Wyncie King, from Selected Letters of Martha Gellhorn
(via onto-my-trembling-lips)
(via onto-my-trembling-lips)
love
I had a lover four years ago. One of my first ones. I loved him. We spent an entire summer together, meeting in the mornings at his apartment. We would drink coffee and fuck and talk about writing and music. He would read pieces of his novel to me. I would make him come. He was quiet and reserved. Tall and bespectacled with a lot of hair on his large manly body. There were many reasons to fall in love with him. It was easy to do.
We broke up after three months and it hurt. He couldn’t handle me being married. It was not hard to understand. I moved on from him and found another. I always do. We remained friends though and one time we were having a conversation and I told him that I loved him. He looked at me with sort of an alarmed look on his face. And I said calm down. It’s not that big of a deal. I don’t think falling in love is hard. I don’t think falling in love is what many people think it is. The ideas we are fed about love and sex and soulmates and marriage are all made up. The truth is that love is easy and natural and feeling it sometimes quickly and deeply happens. And then it happens again with someone else. At least that is how it for me.
I stopped fighting this a long time ago. I accept that this is the way I am. It’s not all the same type of love and it doesn’t all last the same amount of time. Often it hurts when it’s gone or it never actually goes away. But I accept all this. To me, the experience of feeling those emotions, the good parts and the painful parts, are all worth it. All part of the same thing. I like to feel it with someone new. I like to have them for whatever amount of time I have them. Collect all the little details about them that make them so unique. I like recording those details to my memory. The way they smelled. The sounds they made when they came. The songs that played when we fucked. What their hands felt like on my skin or around my throat.
No matter how many times my heart has broken because of the loss of someone, I have never regretted a single relationship. I have no real frame of reference for whether or not this is a normal attitude. Part of me wants to believe that everyone feels this way inside, they just don’t acknowledge it or act on it. I’ve done a lot of things. Made many mistakes. Told lies. Felt guilty. Acted in a way that begged self-destruction. But I don’t take any of it back and none of it can be undone anyway.
I like love. I like being in love. I think in some ways I must also enjoy the loss of love and the renewal that comes with it. The writer told me I intellectualize love and sex. I guess that’s true. I’m not smart about much else but when it comes to the complicated mess of love and sex, I feel like I’m in my natural environment.
nicola-dow