Letting Go

I tried loving and letting go and not just once. But it doesn’t make any sense to me anymore. Part of loving is ownership; the other part is responsibility. Ownership of the loved by the one that loves and responsibility of the loved for the one that loves.

There is no such thing as letting go, because the act of loving itself causes an exchange in the metaphysical universe. And there is no such thing as unreciprocated love because although love may not be reciprocated with love, there is always something exchanged: pity, tolerance, forbearance, contempt, disrespect.

When I choose not to reciprocate love with love, I must take responsibility for what I offer to the exchange, how I choose to treat another human being. In any case, making this choice will condemn a part of my soul to eternal loss. And in every life I live, with so many unreciprocated loves, I keep losing a bigger chunk of my soul. Until one day, I have no soul at all. And I cease to exist.

I hope that you will consider forgiving me for not reciprocating your love with love. Thanks to my actions, all I have in store for me is the suffering of eternal loss and the shame of knowing how I treated you. It will not bring me any happiness; it will only take away from any chance that I have at happiness. Knowing your capacity for love, you probably will not gloat about my situation. But I hope that it will move you enough to consider forgiving me.

I know it’s ironic how you gave before what I didn`t want and I`m asking you now to give again. But if you don`t, you have chosen how to treat me, another human being, and I`m sorry it had to be this way. Maybe things would have worked out better if you hadn`t tried to let me go in the first place. Because see, I`m still here and you`re still trying to let me go.

You say you`ve moved on, but you still own my memory. You say that life went on for you, but you still wince at my rejection. You say that you accepted my decision, but that was a part of me too. Please stop trying to let me go, because you know you can`t. Life doesn`t just go on; it takes everything along with it and doesn`t slow down to be more careful. It rushes headlong into the path of death and only then is everything really let go.

If you are bent on letting me go, you would have to die. And I would not be able to accept responsibility for that. I guess, given the circumstances, my only viable option is to love you right back. Thank you for allowing me to make this journey in understanding. And thank you for loving and not letting me go.

Two Fat Tomatoes

“Two fat tomatoes,
juicy ones, ripe red -
get me them. Will you please?”
he said.

“Oh God!
What a horror!
I want you out of my kitchen
By tomorrow.”

“But darling,”
he protests, “I
promised to cook.”

“So what?”
said she,
giving him the LOOK.

“Don’t you want me to?”
said he,
teasing with his voice
of burnt honey.

“Of course I do
but not like this.
Help yourself
pliss”

“But babe
don’t you see
how easy it would be
if two could work together as one”

“That’s just like you”,
she said turning on heel,
“Trying to get a bargain
On every little deal”

“I’m sorry that’s
The way you feel
But I’m only trying to connect with a part of me
That wants to peel

And chop and cut
And pare.
Now do you mind putting on the boiler there?”
“Oh I do” and she held up
her fresh manicure.
“I could ruin it if only you
would pay for one more”

“Alright, alright!”
He held up his hands
“I’m not going to start this fight”

“Smart move, wise boy.
Now back to cooking
Until then,
let me finish my Facebooking”

He came out
With a plate.
“Here’s your lunch”
“Well about time. It’s late.”

She tasted. He waited.
“Mmm, that’s good.
But it would have been better with tomatoes.”

“Why darling,
you may be right,
But incompetent little me,
With no culinary history
could only manage to season it with drippings from my nose.”