A few months ago, I asked a friend which three famous people from history he would like to meet--you know, in the event that we discover black holes really are portals for time travel. One of the people he mentioned was the South American poet, Pablo Neruda, because he wanted to ask him how he was able to say "te amo" so easily. The conversation that ensued about the ease of which those words roll off our tongues has been stuck in my head ever since.
Like anyone else who has walked through the path of divorce, mine has been a path of self-exploration. I've spent a lot of time in the last year and a half exploring my thoughts and feelings on love and marriage. This path has challenged much of what I used to believe and, at the same, brought me new insights into the exhilaration, comfort, and perils of two people trying to forge a piece of their lives together.
What I've discovered is that the words "te amo" tend to roll of my tongue fairly easily, but not always in the same context. I've loved a lot of people in my life, and although the loves can have entirely different intentions, they are all extremely deep. What I've found that amazes me most is that the love really does remain very much a part of me even if we find different destinations.
Much of my poetry lately has stemmed from these thoughts, and I've decided to put them together in a book that I will publish myself. It's very much like what the classical writers did, and the idea seems to fit my place in life for the moment. The project I am now working on is currently titled, "The Men I've Loved", and the 25 poems I hope to complete for this will be an exploration of those oh-so-deep yet differently intended loves. Of the men who have at some point walked my path with me.
It's very exciting.
Like anyone else who has walked through the path of divorce, mine has been a path of self-exploration. I've spent a lot of time in the last year and a half exploring my thoughts and feelings on love and marriage. This path has challenged much of what I used to believe and, at the same, brought me new insights into the exhilaration, comfort, and perils of two people trying to forge a piece of their lives together.
What I've discovered is that the words "te amo" tend to roll of my tongue fairly easily, but not always in the same context. I've loved a lot of people in my life, and although the loves can have entirely different intentions, they are all extremely deep. What I've found that amazes me most is that the love really does remain very much a part of me even if we find different destinations.
Much of my poetry lately has stemmed from these thoughts, and I've decided to put them together in a book that I will publish myself. It's very much like what the classical writers did, and the idea seems to fit my place in life for the moment. The project I am now working on is currently titled, "The Men I've Loved", and the 25 poems I hope to complete for this will be an exploration of those oh-so-deep yet differently intended loves. Of the men who have at some point walked my path with me.
It's very exciting.
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