Today I was going to write about Christina Rosetti. I enjoy her sonnets because as a female writer she immediately takes on the mantel of being the anti-sonnet writer. Sonnets are a way for men to lift their loves beyond their reach. Usually though, the effect is more about showing how good they can write about a mythical woman than a true love that can actually be seen or touched. We read shakespeare because we want to feel that about another person but the poem isn't real and that's what we should keep in mind. Alas, I had a conversation with my boyfriend Michael this before I began writing that changed my mind on what to write.
I've said on my myspace blog that Michael showed me what true love is. I don't mean to discredit those who have come before and their love for me. I don't mean to cheapen their feelings. What Michael has shown me is how I can give him love. My ability to show others my feelings has been broken a long time. I can think of specific events in my life that have most likely led me to always hide my heart. If someone comes to close I try to break away and make them hate me. I show others why they really shouldn't love me. This tactic never worked on Michael. I would do stupid things, say stupid things and he would understand that it wasn't about him at all, it was my own fear that kept pushing him away. Someone immature and insecure would have left me long ago. With his perseverence something strange happened. I came to England for 9 months and even though I'm an ocean away and everyone is telling me that its normal to mess around with other people when you're so far away for so long, I lost all desire. I finally had a real reason to push him away and I didn't want to. Because Michael gets me more than I do. Now we are talking about getting engaged, something that scares the hell out of me (I have a track record). Michael asked why I was scared and I told him it was because i was sure that one day he would wake up and realize that he really didn't love me like he thought he did. He would realize that I'm not perfect. He said he knew I wasn't perfect and he loved me anyway. This is why I don't like sonnets, they are about a perfect woman that doesn't exist. Michael knows who I am and he loves me. And because of that, I love him.