Wednesday, October 27, 2010

A Ribbon in the Sky for Our Love...Or Just a Cloak for Our Lust?

Stevie told me that there’s a ribbon in the sky for our love. And I was so excited to hear that because this promised ribbon was the only evidence of our love.  There was no appreciation in the voice for our love, no meaning in the eyes for our love and definitely no ring on the finger for our love. So this ribbon, this highly-glorified, highly-anticipated, highly-trusted, cupid-acting strand of fabric better be special. So I went on a mission, an exploration if you will, to find this ribbon. This ribbon that would give me all the answers to the questions I had: Will you ever love me as much as I love you? “…a star will guide you my way...”  Are we actually supposed to be together or is it just convenient? “…this is not a coincidence…” Is love supposed to be this hard? “…we’ll find strength in each tear we cry…” Are we supposed to last forever? “…from now on, it will be you and I…” 

This ribbon seemingly had all the answers I wanted to hear, so I really needed to find it. The only clue I had of where to find it was “the sky.” But the sky is so vast and overwhelming; there must be a easier way to get to this ribbon. I needed directions or a map! So I began to ask for directions—directions to this ribbon that exemplified the last bit of hope that our love was real. I was pointed toward one direction and I was so excited when I got there because it looked like the ribbon, but I soon realized that it was just a cloak in the sky for our lust.  But I didn’t get discouraged; I pressed on.  

I must find this ribbon. Weeks, months are slipping by and I must get proof that this love is valid. So I asked someone else: do you know where I can find my ribbon in the sky? They pointed in the opposite direction. I was relieved they didn’t point me back toward lust but then when I got to the destination they described, it was just a kite in the sky for our illusions. The kite had a picture of the ribbon on it but was not the actual ribbon. So on I went.  But I decided not to ask for any more directions. I will let my compass be my guide. Slight left, then right, up a hill, across the river, through the valley, up steep terrain, around the bend until I finally found what I was searching for—my ribbon! But it wasn’t what I expected to see. It was torn, knotted, ratty and dull. My ribbon had been stomped on like a rug! All this time trying to find evidence of our love and once I found it, I decided that it wasn’t worth finding. What’s funny is that I knew that all along—I didn’t need a ribbon to tell me that our love was tarnished. But I wanted to see it for myself—needed to know that what my instincts were telling me was real. So I found my ribbon and it gave me answers—just not the ones I wanted…

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