Interior, Metropolitan Museum of Art

Every year around this date I especially find myself marveling at love…

Love that is gained and lost, and found again. Love that is unrequited and unrewarded and yet still persists. Love that claws its way through the heart and lodges itself there against all logic and stays regardless of physical presence or absence. Love that endures despite being utterly spent, never quite reaching the point where it simply cannot love anymore. 

Lonely love.

Brilliant love.

Eternal love.

For over twenty years I have loved this love. At times gingerly, even tentatively, and at other times fiercely and with conviction. Is it more valuable for bearing all of the scars and scuff marks, the wear and tear of time and hurt? Is it more precious for simply surviving?


But then, all love is precious. 


75 thoughts on “Worn

  1. Oh man you’ve got my tears going. I just lost a precious man, my best Friend, who I loved like no other. Our heart to heart, no games relationship was the most pivotal of my life thus far. I’m crushed right now yet not to have loved this friend would have been the greater loss.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Virgil or Warren Zevon? You decide.
    Amor vincit omnia or…
    The phone don’t ring
    And the sun refused to shine
    Never thought I’d have to pay so dearly
    For what was already mine
    For such a long, long time
    We made mad love
    Shadow love
    Random love
    And abandoned love
    Accidentally like a martyr
    The hurt gets worse and the heart gets harder
    The days slide by
    Should have done, should have done, we all sigh
    Never thought I’d ever be so lonely
    After such a long, long time
    Time out of mind

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      • I can bore for two continents about the poetic greatness of the lyrics of Warren Zevon, now fully paid up member of the Dead Poets Society. If you have time try Desperadoes under the Eaves. To a Tex-Mex tune with Nelson Riddle strings attached (Zevon studied as a kid with Stravinsky no less) he sings not of Moon and June but…

        I was sitting in the Hollywood Hawaiian Hotel
        I was staring in my empty coffee cup
        I was thinking that the gypsy wasn’t lyin’
        All the salty margaritas in Los Angeles
        I’m gonna drink ’em up

        And if California slides into the ocean
        Like the mystics and statistics say it will
        I predict this motel will be standing until I pay my bill

        Don’t the sun look angry through the trees
        Don’t the trees look like crucified thieves
        Don’t you feel like Desperados under the eaves
        Heaven help the one who leaves

        Still waking up in the mornings with shaking hands
        And I’m trying to find a girl who understands me
        But except in dreams you’re never really free
        Don’t the sun look angry at me

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Hey Victo,

    This aspect of human love is like a wart that one wants removed before a holiday but cannot ever get surgery for. We hate the wart being there, would prefer if it was gone, but have lived with it for so long that we’d miss it if it were no longer on our finger.

    The human capacity to give and receive love is infinite. I don’t believe it is possible for a human to live without loving something. Having unrequited love in one’s life fills the void and longing in a heart to be loved and to give love…strangely (or otherwise) unrequited love is often unconditional – in a sense it is a more pure form of love than might otherwise be given.

    Our beings, so close to nature, feel summer’s demise and the long slow return of autumn and winter to conclude the year. At years end we’ll be another year older and realistically little is likely to have fundamentally changed in our life during the past months including the wart that somehow we never quite got around to having removed before that last holiday.

    Unrequited love is the merry minstrel of melancholy. We all sing his tune from time to time and find gratitude for all the love and grace that we do have in our life.

    As always, I enjoyed the photo, but wouldn’t want to wake in the night in a room quite like that. I’d feel overwhelmed and my vision infested by shifting shadows and twisted knotty shapes clinging and sliding in every direction I look! Scary! It looks like the only thing missing from the room’s dΓ©cor are golden Cherubs! I am told they are great wart surgeons, especially Cupid πŸ™‚

    Namaste πŸ™‚


    Liked by 1 person

    • I like what you say about unrequited love being in some sense a more pure love. That is true. The cupids in the photo are not gilded which I thought was fitting given the subject matter. Love is rarely how we expect or desire for it to be. πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

      • Hey Victo,

        I know there is always a black rose haunting my darkly prose. But I wouldn’t want it any other way, not really. I get the impression you’d not abandon such ‘haunting’ sentiments either?

        Indeed the un-gilded cherubs feel naked without their lovely wrapping…like giant crawling flies on the wall lol πŸ™‚

        ‘Love is rarely how we expect or desire for it to be’. This is insightful and very true…even an individuals relationship with God will be a different experience form the next person. Human love is a lesson to be learnt the hard way in life for there are no shortcuts to being educated in the ways of love or in matters of the heart. We all trip up, or are tripped up, and stumble at some point it’s inevitable, but we learn eventually that what we desire may not always be what we need to grow: it is difficult to accept that Love takes many forms, even forms that are deeply hurtful (but not life-taking!). Perhaps when we do stumble, it is the manner of our return that is important and even unrequited love can motivate that aspect of ourselves.

        Enjoy your evening. Love and Peace.

        Namaste πŸ™‚


        Liked by 1 person

  4. Surprising and memorable little poem right there in the middle, where it works to slow the eye down and allow time itself to pause for thought. And the descriptors are far from the usual ones — “lonely,” brilliant”, “eternal” add significant additional weight when love carries them around.

    The whole thing is very moving. Thank you! I am thinking differently about certain things now.

    P.S., i think the answer to your questions should be “no.” But what do I know. I’m still learning.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Worn but still beautiful and real. I’m reminded of that part in the Velveteen Rabbit about real. “…It takes a long time….. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out, and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real, you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Pingback: Mystery Blogger Award Nomanation – The Wild Prose

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