I'm Sorry I'm Not Available To Take Your Love Right Now

yesterday i saw
the iron curtain
around your heart

making me cry
making me wonder
bringing me down
but making me love you

making me sad
making me sorry and
a little afraid
but making me love you

yeah

(Over the Rhine)


Spurred by a couple out-of-the-blue phone calls from former flames and the dusting of silt leftover from a faded broken heart, I had a thought. Not a new one for me but one that I finally have the right words for, or one word rather. Availability.

When I was in my early twenties, I had a 5 year relationship that, while certainly had its imperfections, was also sort of... perfect. And when I say perfect, I don't mean formulaic (read: storybook), but rather, unfettered. The three middle years we spent long distance, but it didn't matter. We saw each other when we could. Sometimes it was weekly; sometimes it was three months, but it never changed our love, devotion or loyalty to each other. Sure, the longer spans were harder because we missed each other, but having someone's love like that, I felt contented. I never even had the urge to stray, nor did she.

But that's not what even made it so... ideal. What made it ideal was how available we were to one another. We occasionally talked about the what-ifs of forever, but we both knew forever is a really long time, so how could we even begin to know the people we would become in the next 5, 10 or 20 years? Even still, while we were in it together - in love, that is - we were available to each other. Unfettered from the emotional baggage, bitterness, broken hearts, skepticism and insecurities that come from years of - and I use this word tentatively - relationships with unavailable people.

One thing I've never been able to understand is that if most people want love, then why is it so hard to have it with someone? But then I realized that it really comes down to one thing: availability. Of course, that is if the other basic ingredients are there - things like attraction and compatability.

So many people are not available. Their trust has been broken by someone in the past: a friend, a lover, or a parent, or they've never truly experienced love: from a friend, a lover, or a parent. And as much as they want love, they can't shed their self protective barriers that would allow them to experience real love. Out of fear. Out of hurt. Out of ignorance.

But to actually have love, you have to be available to give and receive it. I've experienced some really great people in my life. Tender ones. Compassionate ones. Even loving ones. But when it comes to being accessible on a level that makes them vulnerable to me, they're unavailable. Their emotional baggage, bitterness, broken hearts, skepticism and insecurities are too present in their hearts and minds to let their past fall away.

And that's why Jenny was so lovely. We weren't scared of loving each other. We were available - emotionally, mentally, and physically - to share ourselves with each other. We didn't promise each other forever; we didn't have to. The only thing we promised was to never betray each other's trust. Sure, when we broke up, it wasn't all puppies, rainbows, and flowers, but among the tears and sadness and loss, we knew that our lives were leading us in different directions. Breaking up was the right thing to do.

Since then, I've experienced some really great people. Tender ones. Compassionate ones. Even loving ones. But also unavailable ones. You often hear people say you can't help who you fall in love with. The heart wants what it wants. I don't believe that. See, I think that we make a choice as to whether or not we make ourselves available to give and receive love. And if you aren't open to it, chances are it's not going to happen, and if you are too open to it, you could fall for somebody who never really wanted your love in the first place.

I started this post with the song Iron Curtain because of something I've learned from the unavailable people in my life after Jenny. When I see the iron curtain around someone's heart, it may make me cry, make me wonder, bring me down, make me sad, make me sorry, and a little afraid, but it doesn't make me love them, not anymore, at least. Yeah. Because that's when you hurt yourself - when you try to love someone who is not available to receive it - someone with an iron curtain around their heart.

So the next time I make myself available to give and receive love, it's going to be to someone who is available to give and receive it back. Isn't that what being "in love" is about - being "in" something with somebody who is in it with you?

I was in love once, and I may never be in it again. And to anyone whose outgoing message says, "I'm sorry I'm not available to take your love right now," I'll leave this message: what I really want is someone who's available to pick up the phone. My love won't be waiting on the line for long.

~ the lady love