Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake
I’ll be watching you

Love and all its oddness has surrounded me these past few months. What is that love thing all about, anyway? I seem to recollect it being something about an easiness with one another, a caring, a wish to share things, perhaps a spot of lust, the need to have a person in your life. I understand it can be pleasant, affirming, something to desire.

And heaven knows I love my kids, my friends, even my naughty dog and parrotlet. But all those loves are different, easier, than romantic love. That romantic love thing still eludes me. I’ve been mistaken before about love, and apparently have poor judgement about it. Well, one can’t be perfect at everything and as I haven’t yet found anything to be perfect at, I shouldn’t expect perfection or anything approximating it in this realm, either.

But when does it slip into madness?  Is it when you are feeling lonely and so cling to someone you know is inappropriate because they are the port in the storm of daily life? Is it when you assume eternity of attachment when nothing has been determined? Is it when you plan your life around a chimera, assuming everything about the object of your affection will be there to support you?

Is it when you follow someone, making irrational choices, planning on taking over their life to affirm your own? Or is it when they reasonably say no and you are totally perplexed by the turn of events?

O can’t you see
You belong to me
How my poor heart aches with every step you take

It’s a mystery to me. All I know is that I’ve been burned once again, again by trying to be nice and pleasant.  And suffered stalking of Olympian proportions. It was tempting to be loved like that, until I realized I was being smothered gently, that my life was being wanted, taken, in the softest, gentlest, seemingly nicest way. Breathing became difficult.

Ah well, live and learn. No more ms. nice girl. And bye-bye, gentle air-seeking comforter. Latch onto someone else, please. I am stepping out, back into the breeze, breathing deeply and reestablishing my self.

The Police take on this issue….of course, maybe being stalked by Sting would overall be okay….mmmm.