When I was a kid and autograph books were the in thing, there would always be that certain question that fascinated me.
What is love?
There were different answers that were given and all of them at one point was true. Love is blind. Love can move mountains. Love is a rosary full of mystery. Love is God. Love is admiration. Love is sacrifice.
Love is sacrifice. I grew up my seeing my Mom embody this. She sacrificed a lot to be with my Dad and she sacrificed a lot for her family and for us. She just kept on sacrificing. At times, I admired her for it. At times, I despised her for it. At times, I pitied her. At times, I wanted to be like her. I wondered ...
Where did she get the energy to keep on going? How can she love so much when there was no one returning it, not even us, her children. We just kept getting and getting and not giving back in return. We kept demanding and she kept giving until there was nothing left to give.
Then I had a family of my own and I realized that yes, it is possible. A Mom can put up with almost everything to give what she thinks is best for her son. A Mom can put aside her own happiness to make things work. I also realized, a Mom can only do so much.
Love is sacrifice. Is it really? Shouldn't it be that if there is real love between two people, then there shouldn't be that much to sacrifice? Sure, there will be the minor things and maybe even a few major ones but if its a CONSTANT thing, then is it still love?
The past few years I felt that I kept sacrificing. Maybe its true, maybe not but this is how I feel. I kept sacrificing and saying okay to everything that I have come to a point where I don't even know if it is okay; if I really was okay. And I realized, this wasn't love anymore. I was just holding on to a dream that I had when I was a child.
There was a saying that I think I posted in here before that I believe is worthy of being reposted.
"Every relationship is worth saving. But oif you keep trying to save the relationship, then maybe it wasn't a relationship to begin with."