What if you were meant to love an unlimited amount, but it's the world that makes you choose?
I have been toiling with this idea ever since reading a poem by Adrienne Rich titled "For the Dead"
As I read the third stanza, I was suffocated all at once by a rush of assorted emotions associated with previous and current loves, even the loves that were to come.I dreamed I called you on the telephone
to say: Be kinder to yourself
but you were sick and would not answerThe waste of my love goes on this way
trying to save you from yourselfI have always wondered about the left-over
energy, the way water goes rushing down a hill
long after the rains have stoppedor the fire you want to go to bed from
but cannot leave, burning-down but not burnt-down
the red coals more extreme, more curious
in their flashing and dying
than you wish they were
sitting long after midnight
Do we have an unlimited of love? Is there always "left-over energy?" Do our hearts contain an abundance of love? Will they ever run out of water?
We will never know for certain. For humans sake, I hope it is the second and I will spend my lifetime fighting to live by this truth.
Here's my attempt to explain it: