18 August 2010


So, I have this disease.

"Gee, what kind of disease, Malia?"

Well, it's kind of embarassing really. And it's rather hard for me to fess up to, especially in this modern world where everyone is constantly abusing, changing, and reshaping this disease. But, I've decided it's time to come clean about it.

"Okay, M. Well, what is it?"


"... Love?"

Yah, love. And let me tell you why.

I have a tendency to fall in love. All the time. And I am not just talking romantic love - I fall in love everyday with everyone. There are very few people in this world I wouldn't take a bullet for. I walk around loving on clouds and green grass. I love people who wear neat clothes, like genuinely love them. I compliment strangers and admire passerbys. I love people because they laugh loudly or break into dance randomly. I love people because they enjoyed a movie or novel I did. Because we both ordered the same coffee or even because we ordered different coffees! I just love them - all of them.

Romantically? I am a sucker. I see every guy for their full potential and love them unconditionally. Not inspite of their flaws, but because of them. I get butterflies easily. I love all the typical forehead kisses, hair brushing, random smiling nonsense and I eat it up. Now, I'm not constantly in a relationship and I take bs from no man - but it takes little to no time for me to go from "like" to "love." I believe wholeheartedly in soulmates, true love, and even happily ever after and I don't mind being a little heart broken. I know it's part of the proccess of life. I am overly devoted and loyal to whomever I happen to be seeing and I fight for that person. I enjoy every little thing and love them all the more because of it.

Friendship? I am, again, a sucker. I have a tendency to give more than I get. I'm pretty naive and like to see the best in everyone. I want them to know their loved and I will ((and have)) literally cross oceans for people. I can't stand to see unhappiness in anyone at all and befriend even the most suspicious and peculiar characters. After befriending a rather sketch guy outside of Madison Square Garden who introduced himself by asking if I had any dope ((whether he meant Marijuana or something stronger, I'll never know)), I was swept away by a friend who had been looking for me and asked ((with his arm firmly wrapped around my shoulders like you might do with a small child)) "Does it ever occur to you that some people shouldn't be made friends with?" My immediate response - "No." And yah, I realize that there are bad people in this world but I don't think that means you should neccessarily write them off completely. I had a lovely conversation with the kid who asked me for dope, he called himself "Gatsby" after his favorite book ((The Great Gatsby)) - so he can't have been a complete tosser.

Now, it's true that in earlier years I could have done better. Much better. Not only in loving but in showing the love I did feel. But this is now and I have laid to rest the ghost of who I once was. Love is my disease. It has infected every cell, every molecule of who I am. It courses through my veins more freely than blood. It consumes me. I love everything from sand between my toes to the sky above my head. I love the broken man as much as I love the Dalai Lama. I love Hawaii to Pakistan. Every worm and each whale. Each and every inbetween there ever was, is, or will be - I love. And oh! how I love it all!

i love

I love when I am exhausted and when I am broken. I love when I am bright and new. I love when I am sleepy. When I am awake, when I am reading or conversing. I love when I am distracted or angry. I love when I am happy and silly. I love when I am full. I love when I am empty.

I love.

It is something I have fought for a long while. Something I have had difficulty dealing with and understanding. It's hard to be the woman who loves everything. Especially because, not everything will love me back. Indeed, most things do not - will not - love me back. But holding that love back, letting it merely sit inside me with no outlet, is far more painful than loving.

It is, in fact, heart wrenching and devestating to watch that love just wander aimlessly inside me until it dies a slow and horrid death with no one or nothing to be sent onto. You cannot collect love. You cannot save it inside of yourself to keep. Love must be given away and it must be given freely and often. Sometimes you will find that you have given every ounce of love you have without recieving any and still people demand it from you, and you must obey. You must give love unreservedly and without question. You must allow it to not only consume you, but to infect others. You must let it spread like wildfire among all those around you. Because this is a disease that kills only when you are selfish with it. When you claim it as your own and refuse to let it run wild.

The death is a brutal one. First the love withers into bitterness and anger, because you have refused to share it. Next it sends you a feverish hatred, not only of you for your selfishness but also for the love others are spreading. Jealousy and hate addle your mind until you no longer recognize truth or hope. It is slow, sneaking, and deadly. And the only cure, is more love.

Love is my disease. And I am choosing to let it take me. All of me. And I will let you in on a little something, I have every intention of infecting each and every one of you. Better hope you've all had your shots, kids.


1 comment:

  1. I don't think I could have said it better. I identify a little too much with this for comfort.