Love, Actually

Sometimes things don’t make sense. Over the past few days I’ve heard things that are tough for me to hear, not just because I’m kind of a wimp, but because they’re real, rough, grown-up issues. It’s heartbreaking. And through all of it, all I can think is, “I really, really need to love people better.”

It isn’t exactly that I’m bad at loving people, it’s just that I do it on my own terms. You know, when it doesn’t interfere with my routine because I’ve got a few extra minutes to text and check on someone. Or while I’m waiting at a doctor’s office or at the mechanic’s, I call a friend to chat. Or, as my coworkers have learned, I get stressed out and bake things. Since I don’t want a bunch of sweets just hanging out at my house, I bring them to work to share. Basically, I show love when it doesn’t really cost me anything.

One of my resolutions this year is to write letters, actual letters, and to mail one out each day. And I’ve already missed more days than I care to admit, but I’m going to keep trying anyway, because this is something concrete that I can do to show people that they matter to me. I still need more people to write to, so please feel free to send me your address!

I’m not saying that loving people has to constantly be an arduous task, just that it’s gonna require some degree of sacrifice, whether it’s your time, money, or abilities. It isn’t always (or even usually) convenient, but it’s a decision worth making every time.

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