Love doesn't fail.
If I had to choose one of my big, big ugly faults, it would be that I am not good at remembering this. I have been so fortunate in life to be surrounded by many who love me well; yet despite these radiating examples of true love, I sometimes choose to heed the inner-curmugeon just waiting for people to let me down.
It's my biggest obstacle in relationships. I've worried about disappointing my parents, despite their constant reassurances that I'll make them proud by simply being happy. I've kept friends at arm's length or turned away at the first hint of turbulence just to avoid the messy business of watching love do its great work of keeping things together. This is a fault of mine, no one else's.
The person who loves me best of all is a man hell-bent on making me see that his love will not fail me. He won't let me not believe it.
I'm talking about a man who has born witness the worst parts of me that exist, and he still admonishes me to look into his eyes so that I see him telling me he loves me--meaning it. I'm talking about a man who pays attention to my needs (even when I don't), who sends me on rejuvenating trips, and takes me on thoughtful dates. He's the same man who once jokingly bought me a pack of cigarettes because I felt terribly regretful for not having [what seemed at the time a completely necessary] teenage rebellion. I'm talking about a man who believes in me when I want absolutely everything, and who believes in me equally when I think I want absolutely nothing. On Valentine's Day this man gave me a beautiful rhinestone bangle; and when I put it on, he gingerly held my arm to admire me wearing it. "When I saw it," he said, "I just knew that it would look like this on your wrist." Because he is the man who considers these things.
While he leaves me no room to worry that his love may fail, I have often taken his love for granted by not being constantly aware of the depth of it. His love covers all of me at all times; and though my head realizes it, my heart does not always live in this attitude.
I'm also guilty of failing to see the bigger picture in this love: Which is, True Love awaits everyone (not just those lucky enough to marry Trevors) if they only turn to it. There is a Love that loves us well, despite our hidden evils and sins. It Loves us well in the face of who we are, talents and quirks and dark fears and confusion. It is a Love that bids us to go and to do and to be who we were created to be. And it is a Love that knows us, from our wrists to our hearts and the hairs on our heads.
It is not Love that fails us. It is we who fail Love. We fail Love by refusing to see, by refusing to succumb to it, by not appreciating and reciprocating its graciousness every day. By simply doubting its steadfastness.
But Love does not fail, does not fail, does not fail. Repeat until it is imprinted on your heart.