On Love, Trust, and Broken Hearts

Dear Quinn, I realized yesterday, that as much as I am a woman of love and have always been my entire life, I have suddenly it seems, become less trusting of the Love that flows into me. Oh, I can give Love in so many forms. That's different. I can embody Love and serve it steaming hot and delicious to so many. But Love has also hurt me so badly that it has left me trembling naked without my breath on the ground. And then the ground opened and swallowed me whole for a while. I have hated Love. Who wants to be ripped opened again like that? Who wants to Love and feel betrayal on every level of their being? Love can be a stealth weapon. Let it in, and Love has the potential to wreak you. And yet, it's what I yearn for. Love is what is healing me and fueling my creative engine. Love is my elixir, and my body wants to open to receive love deeply into my being over and over again. So yesterday Love and I had a big conversation. Love asked me to melt. Love asked me to trust. Love asked me to be generous. Love asked me to be bigger than I thought possible, because Lord - aren't I big enough? Love seduced me again, asked me to drop my fears, and simply trust. Love wanted in. Love wanted to be seen, and held and trusted again. Of course Love did. Love didn't want to be put on trial in every moment. Love wanted not only my heart again, but Love wanted me to take care of it too. I held love's gaze and dropped my last veil. I am choosing to stand naked in Love again. I am handing Love a knife and baring my chest. I am offering Love my neck and letting Love mark me. It's okay, Love. Cut into me. Take me hostage again. And it is true: Love may fuck me up without warning and leave me trembling naked on the floor one day. It could happen. But suddenly I don't care anymore. Love is having it's way with me. Love is so worth it. Don't you think? Loving you from here, Pamela Madsen