Romantic love is something I’ve been learning how to feel again in the last three years.

It comes from decades of believing in a kind of love that warped my senses to think that harmful and abusive behaviors should run side-by-side with any form of it.

Doesn’t matter if it was learned or observed behavior, I believed that form of love was true all around. Even during relationships, which made it even harder to unlearn the patterns until I made it out.

And I did it just in time to meet the right people to lead me to a rewarding connection.

And I don’t just mean people that I can call, text, and hang out with. I had a chance to meet myself. The sane, healthy part of me that screamed from the inside to listen to them when things felt off, and not for me.

When I finally had the time to be alone with that part of me, we had some battles to fight. One from the past that either stayed there, or bled into the present because of our own actions mixed with others who refuse to be told about themselves.

Through all of that, love was being redefined. Like defragmenting to get out the unnecessary mess so that your system can run better than before. It won’t be perfect due to wear and tear, but like me, know what’s best for itself.

Love in all its forms is a safe yet chaotic space even when it’s built on healthy ground. Safe because it’s defined in a way that serves people with compassion and trust. Chaotic because you’ll do anything to maintain the peace is brings you and others.

That’s where I’m at with it now. Knowing who loves me for who I am and have become has set a foundation of what I want moving forward. Even as I’m still working to be free from places that have been the opposite, and often wish to show love in archaic, destructive manners.

That’s what I’ve earned. It’s what I’ve worked for without knowing I’d have it so soon. And I’ll everything I can to keep it close to me.

D.F.