It’s a steep one, the learning curve of love: an asymptote alway reaching for the vertical axis but never quite, never just quite there.

My curve lifted visibly off the horizontal when I finally hit the wall on treasuring myself through my lovers’ eyes so far above and beyond my own. It’s just too painful. And I found somewhere in myself the courage to ask of my beautiful love, please be true with me. Even if you know it will hurt me, because hurting me a little with honesty is so much better than hurting me a lot, over time, out of fear.

And that lover honoured my request. And in so honouring ramped up my learning curve. Upped the ante. And it did hurt, but no so much or for so very long.

From lover to lover through the years now, I find I can only proceed from a place of truth. My truth and your truth. The only truth. Channelling the higher intelligence through all the joy and pain. Knowing I’m still going to fuck up sometimes but that’s OK because I’m human. Becoming love, instead of trying to own it. And the steeper the curve gets, the higher the ratio of joy to pain.