Old Soldiers Never Die. They Just Fade Away!
What are the rules of engagement for matters of the heart and emotions? I’ve been told a number of times that I’m a warrior. I wonder exactly what that means. That I stand and face the battle and fight my way through? Or is it that I’m just too dumb to stay down once I’ve been knocked down? It would be nice if I could give my opponent, my adversary, a death blow. But that would only be winning the battle, not the war.
Ah yes, the war. The battle of the ages. Man –V- Woman. Heart –V- emotions. This one is ongoing. Sometimes as a soldier of the heart, I’d like to begin a Jihad against matters of the heart. Whenever love, or what I may think is love rears its head, just lop it off and go on. Love is an infidel against the mind, soul and spirit of a human. It attacks when you least expect it. It blindsides you. It cripples you. It makes you uncomfortable, needy and dependant. I’ve reached a point in this war where I no longer want to feel needy, uncomfortable or dependant. I’m too old, too tired. If I love someone, I don’t want to feel like a prisoner of war. I want to feel like a conquering hero. Someone who has captured the heart of another. I no longer want to feel as though my captor is my torturer as well.
I think it’s time for this soldier to retire. Let the battle to the younger ones. Those who have the strength and stamina to fight. I’m picking up the weapons of my warfare and going home. Home to my own heart. There’s a cinder still glowing in the hearth of my heart. When I get there I’ll stoke that little cinder until there is a blazing fire. A fire of my own making that will chase the cold chill of love away. A fire that will give enough light to my heart to chase the shadows of the past away. I will learn to love myself. To love me as I wanted my adversaries to love me. I lay the gauntlet of my heart down. I call a truce for the need to have someone love and care for me. I am me. I am a woman. I have stood and fought the fight of love far too long.
Home is where the heart is. I’m going home!
Ah yes, the war. The battle of the ages. Man –V- Woman. Heart –V- emotions. This one is ongoing. Sometimes as a soldier of the heart, I’d like to begin a Jihad against matters of the heart. Whenever love, or what I may think is love rears its head, just lop it off and go on. Love is an infidel against the mind, soul and spirit of a human. It attacks when you least expect it. It blindsides you. It cripples you. It makes you uncomfortable, needy and dependant. I’ve reached a point in this war where I no longer want to feel needy, uncomfortable or dependant. I’m too old, too tired. If I love someone, I don’t want to feel like a prisoner of war. I want to feel like a conquering hero. Someone who has captured the heart of another. I no longer want to feel as though my captor is my torturer as well.
I think it’s time for this soldier to retire. Let the battle to the younger ones. Those who have the strength and stamina to fight. I’m picking up the weapons of my warfare and going home. Home to my own heart. There’s a cinder still glowing in the hearth of my heart. When I get there I’ll stoke that little cinder until there is a blazing fire. A fire of my own making that will chase the cold chill of love away. A fire that will give enough light to my heart to chase the shadows of the past away. I will learn to love myself. To love me as I wanted my adversaries to love me. I lay the gauntlet of my heart down. I call a truce for the need to have someone love and care for me. I am me. I am a woman. I have stood and fought the fight of love far too long.
Home is where the heart is. I’m going home!
posted by Gammys Perspective at 9:28 AM
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