by Donald Thompson, San Quentin State Prison, CA
Love means different things to different people, but in the end, I believe that love is love.
I have people in my life who love me, and whom I love.
Their love for me makes all of the difference in the world. I feel loved even if it’s just their words to me “I love you” because so much of my life I didn’t feel loved even when there were those who would tell me they loved me, their words were void of meaning because there was no action behind the words.
Not holding enough love in my life impacted me in a destructive way. I didn’t know how to love others and I didn’t know how to love myself. I had a sense of what love was, by the things that others would do for me to show it, especially when they would spend time with me, but the love wasn’t consistent like the faint loneliness that I felt, was.
Not having enough love impacted me by causing me to be withdrawn and not trusting of others and even though I wanted + needed to be loved, I was afraid of being hurt, abused, and being left alone.
I craved love like I would die without it because when I did experience it, it was full with happiness + joy. I felt as though I belonged, but the moment they were gone, so was the love.
Getting to a place, within myself, where i grew to love myself, I had to not be dependent on other peoples love for me because at any moment they could be gone and if they’re gone, who am I?
So, loving myself starts over each day because although my past is in the past, there’s still pain when I think back.
Love is a beautiful thing and when you find it, hold onto it, cherish it, nurture it, never let it go.