Love, forgotten.

I have hurt someone I love. I didn't mean to do it, but I did.

It seems I don't know how to love, to truly love, to accept another's little traits and habits that bother me. To just accept the one I love entirely for who they are.

I thought I knew everything of love. I thought I could accept, forgive, even ignore differences between us, between who we are fundamentally as individuals, and let love override all of that and let love be all it is supposed to be.

But, apparently, I can't do it. Or at least do it correctly. I am flawed. My heart is broken in more than one way, and it was I who broke it.

The only conclusion I can come to is this: I don't know how to love anymore. I am damaged goods. I am an incomplete soul. Somewhere, somehow, sometime in my life, the capacity to truly love someone I once had - that limitless reservoir of surrender, forgiveness, acceptance, and undying admiration - has diminished. The reservoir is now but a muddy pond devoid of beauty.

Perhaps this is my just desserts. Perhaps God is teaching me that I have become someone He didn't design me to be. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. I do not know.

I dreamed of holding the treasure of love, and sharing it with someone with joy. But it seems I hold no treasure, only the empty chest it once occupied.

I once loved. This I know in my heart of hearts. I once loved. I once held that treasure and shared it zealously, maybe overzealously. Maybe I gave my part of the treasure away completely. I don't know what has become of me.

It seems I have forgotten how to love. What good is life now?