You Do Not Know What Love Is


You’ve traveled the world through books and your vivid imagination. You know the most beautiful towns, cities and countries. You paint the most entertaining pictures when you talk about these places, you’ve studied them so much, anyone would be convinced you were born and bred there. You know the streets and all the shortcuts like the way you know the back of your Palm. I envy the way you can go anywhere you want within a blink, the way you look dazed when I say something you don’t know about yet, how your eyes glisten when I listen attentively. Oh baby, you know I’ll always listen attentively.

You know so much of so many things. Like psychology and physiology and astronomy. You are always accurate and all your predictions come true. I can’t count how many times I’ve had to slow you down in my head so I could catch on and try to keep up. You could go on and on and never run out of things to say. Sometimes I just revel on how amazing it is that you can fit all of that into your head.

You know the lyrics to almost every song I’ve heard, and I love letting you sing me these songs.

You’re blessed with a great voice.

How do you do it? How do you read and not forget, look into a book and not sleep off, solve figures and not get migraines? How can you address a crowd and be so confident, stable and composed? You can be charismatic and charming when you want to be. And you have this way of defending your views so much you always seem to be able to convince me of how right you are. You are a jack of all trades…and a master of all too.

You know so much. So so much.

But you. You only know yourself and your needs. You only know your strength and all the times you’ve got it right. You only know your words, your style, superiority and standards. You only know your books and your type of people, your ideas and dreams. You don’t come down to the level of others to see the world through their eyes. You don’t have patience for slower people. You don’t hide your hatred for dumb people. Do you know what love is?

Because you don’t know what it is to be like a child, to forgive so easily and to let things go.

To find joy in the little things of life like green grass, colors and babies. You won’t even let yourself get drunk and totally lose control of yourself. You don’t understand how it feels to be asked a question and not know the answer and not be bothered to find out. You’d never respect casual or openly admit to the lesser things that attract you. You would never throw in the towel because every task to you is a competition, a challenge.

You don’t know what love is. I don’t think you understand what it is I feel for you or what it is you’re supposed to be feeling for me. What “us” means and what the substance holding us together is called.

You don’t know what it means to hold someone so high, to revere someone, to want to capture every air they breathe, every word they say.

You could start a religion and I’ll be a follower to the end. You don’t know what it means to just stay in bed and reminisce about one special person, to sit awake in the middle of the night and imagine. Can you go on your knees and pray for just that person? Get lost into oblivion while listening to that person speak? Do you know how to praise, worship, compliment, flatter? How to spend every day helping and giving because you know that is what really matters?

I think at a time in your life, you weren’t this cold hearted. I think you could be broken if I stay long enough and tried harder. Baby some things are worth more than knowledge and status. We will start from somewhere, anywhere. For all the things you learn, I hope you eventually learn what love is.