We all know that some people are irreplaceable. Parents. Kids. Siblings.
But what about lovers?
People come and go from our life, much like seasons of the year. Out with winter, in with spring. We learn that, and come to accept it. That person who used to be your best friend for life, now gone without a trace. The boys you grew up with, passed on by like a little boat racing down a curb on a rainy day. The girls you once called sisters in high school. They turn a corner, and are gone from our view. Or was it us that turned the corner? Maybe you just grew apart, or moved away.
Then there are the lovers. The ones you took into your bed. The ones whose bed you took comfort in. The ones you spoke intense words of love to, in strong ecstasy, and in quiet determinations.
The very same ones who are no longer there.
Sometimes we reject lovers in terrible pain, as we have no choice, for the hurtful deeds they have done, or refused to do. Sometimes we are rejected, no longer fitting that spot we once held in their life. Life can separate us like two cars on a highway, and one takes an exit, and there’s just nothing that can be done about it.
But sometimes, we discard lovers capriciously. We tire of them. We get bored. We lose that ‘spark’ of attraction, leaving us wondering what we ever saw in them to begin with. Our eyes wander, our minds wander, and soon, we take that exit, or push them onto it.
Because they are replaceable.
It might be that you feel like you can do better, straight up. It might be that you need some time alone, of course. But you know after that time alone, you’ll be wanting a lover. A new one. New and improved.
The younger you are, of course, the more problem this can be. After all, there’s still time. You have years left. Youth left. Time on your side, for the moment. Your adventures are more important, your dreams, and people must not interfere or bog you down. But as the song goes, life is like an hourglass, glued to the table.
Love doesn’t come as easy.
People don’t look as good as they used to. It’s so hard to be overwhelmed with passion that you know will fizzle quickly. You are no longer naïve enough to believe the best in people. You don’t fall in love like that first time out, not anymore. And let’s face it, you don’t look as good as you once did either, and your own baggage can make you harder to love as well. You simply get
One day you realize that the adventures of your youth are sealed in your past, like air bubbles trapped in cement. You realize that your dreams don’t look the same as they once did, and you value different things. You realize you aren’t such a big deal after all, you are not invincible, and that other people who care about you are to be treasured. You realize that a sweet lover, should you be fortunate enough to have one or find one, is no longer one of many, nor are there a line of many more right behind them. They are not replaceable.
I have always thought that those who choose someone as they age, just so they don’t die alone, was absurd. But maybe that is just saying it the wrong way. Maybe it is an acute awareness that your days will never be re-lived, and the ones who love you cannot be replaced. Maybe maturity has a lot to do with dropping selfishness. Maybe the secrets of life come not in indulging ourselves, but in the indulgence of our lover.
Disposable lovers can leave us desperate, urgent, hoping that at least once we will find that one true love, that one we dreamed of as kids, that one we thought we deserved, though we never earned it. Surely life shall not pass us by and leave us empty-handed? Surely life owes us?
And we realize that life owes us nothing. The certainties we once had are now question marks, and many black-and-whites have now become shades of gray, and you start thinking, if I should find love again
it may be irreplaceable.