“The key to sharing a heart worth loving, is to share a love worth remembering.” ~Felix Alexander
How will you remember love?
How will you remember each other?
We never think about these questions in the beginning. The thought never occurs to us that we’ll have to reflect on life after love.
Why should we?
Love is the one thing we perceive as different from everything else, yet it is interwoven into almost every other aspect of our lives.
It’s the only thing we ever enter into, the only thing we ever begin without ever expecting it to end.
When it does end, regardless of the circumstances, it leaves us feeling devastated.
The end of love is the day that turned to night when we didn’t want to sleep, because life was so much better than our dreams.
For others, it is that peaceful slumber wrapped beneath the comfort of blankets on a cold winter morning, but you are forced to rouse from your dreams to face the cold reality of the absence of love.
To want it again.
To need it again.
Is to suffer the loss of a piece of yourself, and you’ll be willing to endure even more pain just to have it back.
To what end, though?
To relive the past?
To make things right?
To make things better?
The journey of life is but the passage of time.
Perhaps, the experiences of our past are designed—be it by God, or Fate, or by ourselves—to guide us into becoming who we are destined to be. Given that everything in life is cyclical: seasons, celestial events, and personal endeavors…it stands to reason that they are our opportunity during one lifetime to live many lives.
We learn from our first love how to navigate the preambles of affection, and we learn from our second love how we could have treated our first love better. We learn from our next love how to trust our instincts, and we learn from our last love how to trust each other.
And so, to have love returned is a wish life grants us by having our paths cross with another. This is no accident. No coincidence, for it is known that God does not roll dice with the universe.
This, my friends, is the inevitability of love. And when we get it back, it comes to us as the fresh canvas comes before the painter, an opportunity to make things right, and do things better…and not just for us, but for the person whom the Fates brought us.
I dare say that whom we have grown into has primed us to be the one to heal someone else who has been broken by heartache. And they, the same for us, in such a way that we not only heal each other, but grow into love as we continue to grow together.
Though we may look ahead with hope that it will last until the end of our days, we are careful not to peer through the veils of time for a sad end that could conceivably destroy us.
Why would we want to do that anyway?
I believe that it would be akin to knowing the exact moment when your life will end. Chances are you may not enjoy life, because you’ll be too busy focusing on the impending doom.
Though we must be careful not to dismiss the finality of death, it serves to note that we should remain conscious of it, because in doing so, it gives us perspective that immortality could never provide.
This is what makes life so precious. This is what makes living a thing of beauty. Every experience is more beautiful, because any moment could be our last. Once it’s over, we will never be here again, but while we’re here we may be fortunate enough to love someone else with everything that we are.
Worry not about the end of love, because true love stories never end. They merely progress, as do our souls, from one stage of existence to the next. And all that matters is what we do with the time we have with each other.
I, for one, would like to have that moment be a tiny droplet of time that ripples across the centuries and echoes into forever.