My Love, You Are Worth Fighting For

Jena Postma
Jena Postma

You came so soon.

Too soon, even.

Just when I was starting to learn how to stand on my own two feet and to love the pace I’ve grown accustomed to, you walked in and started to match my stride. I resisted, but as we walked side-by-side, I found the walls I had built the past few years slowly come undone.

How could you barge in unannounced? I wish you had knocked then I wouldn’t have been so flustered when you first whispered my name. You came when I least expected it. The door to my heart was happily sealed shut and I delighted in expecting no visitors. I don’t know how you managed to enter. Perhaps it was that time you had my coffee order memorized by heart, or how we would easily slip into our own bubble when talking in a crowd. One day, I was just surprised to see a pair of warm eyes stare deeply and knowingly into mine, and there I began to find home.

Home.

I used to associate that word with a cup of coffee and the company of my own thoughts. Now, I see a pair of strong but gentle hands, I hear the sound of your boisterous laugh; I feel the warmth of your affection, and now that is the home I long for.

I never believed them when they said love would sweep you off your feet. I liked the balance, the predictability of walking down my own concrete path. I guess to see was to believe, because now you’ve got me walking on a tightrope, hands held high. Let me tell you, the view from here is amazing.

I am, however, terrified. Terrified that if it came that easily for you to walk into my life, you could leave me in the dark just as quickly as well. I’m afraid that once I have grown accustomed to coming home to your heart, one day I might arrive with the wrong set of keys. I’m frightened that in some point in time, I would lose my balance and fall head first into a pool of loss and regret.

Love, though lovely and breathtaking, also brings with it the risk of being hurt and broken. I don’t think I am ready for the latter.

Then, I realize that pain opens the door to forgiveness – a willingness to love each other despite of the flaws and misgivings. It’s easy to hold your hand when we’re deliriously happy. It’s another to have my fingers intertwined with yours, as you and I tearfully exchange tears and apologies. It’s easy to stay when life is at a standstill. It’s another to insist on staying, even if circumstances are trying to tear us apart. Love grows best in adversity. It chisels out the infatuation, the cheese, the trivial elements of love, until only what is worth fighting for is left.

And love, you are worth fighting for. TC mark

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