They told me to love till it hurt, they told me that my one true love had died for me. That my many mistakes had caused him death, pain. I read it all, the story it was all so hurting someone nailed because of the pathetic person I was. And all they wanted me to do was love like him.
I tried to love. Loved till it hurt. Convinced myself that I was doing it for things unseen. That the greater glory would be in heaven, and that soon enough, I would see what the promise he had for me was. All I ever wanted was to be like him. Loving those that nobody else loved. Giving to those that nobody fame
But again I had no power. Unlike him, I could not do wonders. My words were not powerful, and they could not do the things that were impossible by the 7 billion people around the world, or give to people what they yearned the most. I was told my helplessness was his father’s plan. That through the father, I could ask for power and that through him, the impossible could be made possible. I believed in a world unseen.
I grew strong in faith; with every passing day, every passing pain, every joy, every death and every illness, all I wanted was him. I asked myself what would happen if I stopped believing in him. But how could I stop? How could I run away from someone who loved me so much that he chose my life at the expense of his. Honestly, he was perfect, flawless, selfless, a person you can compare with no other. All he had was a different kind of love, a love so powerful that had to be tragic or let me just say fatal. But his sacrifice only led to better things. Due to this, I had to continue having faith in him. Whenever I doubted, the fear was overwhelming, what if we met again, will I be in a position of explaining my betrayal, no he was the love of my life.
But the awe somehow fades, and I began to meet people who were supposed to be close to him like I was but were not so overwhelmed by his love. I met people who would not sacrifice for anyone. I prayed so hard, that was the only thing mama had taught me to do when I did not know what to do. I hoped that through prayer, they will somehow change. Sadly, nothing happened and some even passed still the same.
Their kind of life troubled me. I wanted to preach to them, but their life was good. They did not need his love. Could I join them? I wondered, maybe if I stopped loving so hard I can be rich than them, but wait, how could I betray someone who died for me.
The more I tried to be perfectly loving the more I failed. It felt like I would cause more pain to the ones I loved when I tried to love them more. I was such a mess. Again, I thought of giving up on this love but like the usual it was too overwhelming.
As time went by and the struggles in life heightened, I just found myself out of track, I had given up. I started believing it was a lie. Maybe I was right. Maybe I was wrong. I became sceptic. With my skepticism I was able to love more, but now another different kind of love. It did not have to hurt for me to feel love, or loved. I began appreciating the little acts of love all around me. I began to see the need to love myself, and do things I would normally not do. For me, skepticism was the light I saw. The change within was great. Like every other aspect of my life, I can’t say it was entirely sweet, skepticism too is disturbing in its own way. But that is what it is all about, I was born disturbed and that is a thing even my skepticism confirms nothing can change. Maybe I should find a way of loving my skeptic nature, this too will be a different kind of love.
