When Love Finds You Again After You’ve Given Up
Love leaves imprints everywhere, it hangs gently in the air, it always finds a way to remind you that it exists, that it is there.
And the truth is, there will be experiences in this life that will try their best to convince you to close yourself off, to constrict around the grief or the loss or the hurt, to convince yourself that you are safer in your solitude. But then you’ll see something that reminds you of the person who cracked your heart open, the person who managed to break through your defenses, the person who changed the way you saw yourself in this world, and a part of you will soften.
There will be times where you will be weathered into listening to the part of your darkened past that is bargaining with you to protect yourself in ways that dissolve your belief in the beauty — but then you’ll hear a song that played on the first night you held someone’s hand, or knew deep in your bones that you could love them, truly love them, and you will soften a little more.
And then will come the days where you will be so incredibly close to reassuring yourself into indifference, where you will be so incredibly close to relinquishing your hope, into not having faith in the fact that there are human beings in this world who will clap for the parts of you that you have never been kind to, that you try to hide; but then you will see a child standing alone in the middle of a crowd, a wallflower, and every hopeful thing in your body will lurch forward — tenderness will pour out of your fingertips, and you will do everything in your power to remind them that they are not alone, that someone has witnessed them, that they are not an island in this world.
It is in these moments that love will show its face, will take up residence in the voids you tried to befriend, will blow your heart wide open.
And I think that is what it’s meant to do — to quietly persist, to softly move us, to jolt us awake from time to time; to remind us that we can still live beautiful lives despite what we have been through, despite what we have run from. I think that’s what it’s meant to do — to bring us back home to ourselves, to remind us to pay attention.
For more writing like this, refer to Bianca Sparacino’s author page. Bianca is the author of The Strength In Our Scars and A Gentle Reminder.
