Been a sucker for love. My parents were cottage lovers. You know the ones that meet young and only during the summer. The kind of love that fuels love stories and compete’s with the Romeos of the world. I am a sucker love because of them. They complete each other most days. It’s tit for tat, but when it comes down to it, it’s strength and inspiration that holds the two of them together. They do not go big on holidays but on everydays. Their love is seen in the care of the other when one is sick, or the constant backing of the other during fights. It’s sickening really, in the same sense it’s utterly inspiring.
So you see I’m a sucker for love. I’m in it for the story, the boy meets girl and from there it’s ever after and white horses. Then again I’m also a sucker for real love stories. Like my parents. Where it’s grit and bones, bare and stones, they fought. Like hell. To keep their love alive. Sometimes it was bad at things weren’t great but it was a constant need to keep the other happy, the family fed, and the drive my parents have that kept everything on the light side of the rock and a hard place. Its not perfect, but my parents can help anyone believe in love.
Even now after I know my mom’s story is more complicated it only gives me hope that I have a piece of her beauty, her strength, and that someone’s gonna love me just a fraction the way he loves her.