I once heard of a man who linked all the women he has loved to different kinds of food.  This man was a chef; when he cooked, he would think of the people he had loved, and channeled those memories into his cooking.

This always struck me, because when I look back at the women I have loved, the most evocative image that comes to mind are the elements.  As I think about them, each becomes tied to an element, and it feels so right to me.

The first woman I loved was Earth.  She was solid and strong, far stronger than I had given her credit for.  Our love was slow, but sure.  It built over time, and grew larger and larger.  But, like the Earth, we seldom notice the little changes that take place and build up, and then all of a sudden, what once was familiar is now different, and where once was smooth land there is now a huge gulf.  I can say with confidence that this was my first true experience of love, and though we became separated by that gulf, a very special part of my heart will always belong to her.

My next love was Wind.  Thinking back, I pegged her as wind almost as soon as I met her.  So strong was she like the wind, that even back then in my bedraggled youth, a part of me recognized it even then.  Have you ever tried to catch the wind, to call out it’s name and hope that the words carry?  I loved her stronger than anything else, it was almost scary.  We flitted around each other, never moving closer than a shared quiet moment and held hands, but I would say this only intensified things more.  We never really became anything more than flirtations buffered by the gale, but still I think of her fondly, the wind which kissed my cheek in the night, then flitted away.

After that came a long drought, and as things tend to go in droughts, I dried up.  In these conditions did I first find Fire.  And, like the spark on the dried land, she lit me afire.  She was intense and strong, full of life, her own view of the world delightfully different, all things which drew me to her.  However, as anyone can attest to who plays with fire, eventually you are burned.  She burned so bright and hot, that soon she was too warm to hold.  Just as if you have your hand in water and slowly raise the temperature, you hardly notice it is boiling until it is too late, and you are scalded.  I noticed early, but it was still too late.  I was burned, but I still remember that passion that Fire held.

Next, came another woman of Wind.  She was different from my first experience of the Wind.  The first Wind I loved was like the wind which cools you on a long trip, a wind ever traveling and moving.  This Wind, she was like the cool breeze of twilight.  She brought with her the smells of the day passing, memories on the wind, and the chorus of the approaching night.  We never had anything, this Wind and I, but the passing experience and soft words of our time together.  She was light on her feet as she danced with the wind, and I the club footed partner could never keep up with her.  Otherworldly, almost, I would call her.  A breeze which promises so much, that you lose just as quickly as you feel it.

These four women, the elements of my love, are the memories I carry.  I can say without a doubt that I had fallen most deeply for Wind, their very nature calling something out in me which screams of love.  Fire taught me much, even as she left me burned.  My memory of her is vivid and strong, a fondness for that which stung.  Earth taught me of love, real love, strong love.  The kind of love which moves mountains. 

Never have I loved Water.  I can’t help but wonder what it would be like, how that love would carry me.  In time, I suppose.

I wonder my friends, how do you remember your loves? I wonder how I am remembered by my loves?  Was I stolid Earth, flitting Wind, burning Fire, or flowing Water?  I’m curious, what are your thoughts on any of these questions?