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To All the Girls I've Loved Before...

Maybe it’s the Spring in the air, or it could be all the people complaining about their relationships or smiling into each others’ mouths. I find my mind wandering towards all the girls I’ve loved and how I loved them. The puppy love with its giggles and bounciness. The unrequited love and the way I pined away my hours waiting and hoping. The friendly love with it’s caring, generosity, and great times shared.  The naughty love with the brief-yet-bright illumination of sensual bliss. The toxic love that consumed us until one of us had the courage to let it go. The deep love that stands the test of time even long after we’ve parted ways.

In some ways it all blends together and has become the jambalaya of my heart.  And as delicious as this concoction is, I do know there are bones and gravel mixed in, which many have been kind enough to pick out.  As I flip through the yearbook of my heart and see the faces of the women who loved me, I am reminded that none of them ever meant to hurt me.  In fact, every one of them wanted to make my world a better place and to heal the little person inside me, although my mileage varied.

When I lay in the expanse of my bed at night, I can occasionally feel them in my arms, the proxy pillow much softer and shorter – snuggly nonetheless.  Or a cool breeze brushes by and I feel their hand on my skin. These are the gifts they have left me, not the curse I thought them to be. For each of them has become part of me and flow through my veins. These thoughts remind me that while I may be an odd sort of fellow, I am someone they loved courageously. And where I used to feel remorse at the way they hurt me, I feel only joy and appreciation for the aliveness they provided.

So, to all the girls I’ve loved before, thank you. Whoever loves me next greatly appreciates the gifts you’ve given me.

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