when i was asked once how does it feel to be loved by a woman as a woman, i failed to articulate it because often i do not speak of love to many explicitly but rather act upon it towards the person i imminently revered. or maybe i was troubled to look for a word that would entirely grasp the feeling when she's asleep, i carefully part strands of hair covering her pretty face. or when i laugh heartily while she braves the fury of cooking oil as we prepare our meal in the kitchen. when i place a band-aid on her blistered heels. when she does my make up. when she asks for forehead kisses. when we wake up next to each other by daybreak. it's in these very mundane things we do together yet we are falling in love with each other over again much like the first time we realized it.
it felt...tender. i began seeing love in tender manner although i was fully convinced my hands bore so much violence. but when she held it as if it were the thing she'd never let go of, i learned there is a delicate part of me despite all. i crumble asunder, with shards that rips apart, nonetheless she carry me still unwarily. she is a hand reaching that caresses my heart in the softest way possible until the anger that dwelled inside for ages had gradually ceased. i don't really know if there is a significant difference between loving a man or a woman, but to be loved by a woman is simply like how i call her name endearingly, as if love itself was named after her. it was tender. love wasn't as brutal as i once believed, but rather an anticipated touch. a willing arrest. a gentle surrender.
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to end the week, i want to greet all lover lesbians a happy lesbian visibility day! your narratives and nurturing love are all worth to be celebrated. :DD
