XCVIII

“I love you,” she whispered, without a hint of doubt or shadow of regret.

“I love you, I do.”

“I love you more than I have words to say; more than there are words to say.”

“To the ends of my being, and with every stumbling beat of this gentle heart…”

And now she stopped, and caught her breath, and put down her pen.

“I love you,” she whispered, with the utmost certainty, and tore every one of her precious words apart.

Because loving isn’t enough, and loving will never be enough.

Love was her escape, and Lord knows it couldn’t last misuse in that way.

First, to face her demons, and then, to love…

“I love you,” she whispered, “… I love you. But loving you just isn’t enough.”

[Images via Pinterest]

XCVII

'Love is free and time is fleeting.' 

Maybe that’s why real love is so rare; so fragile. Because imperfect people make imperfect decisions, and in the blink of an eye a person can choose not to love. Not to feel. Not to acknowledge. People make that choice everyday – and lives are changed, homes are broken, walls are put up and lifelines shut down. I do not wish to be one of those people. Love isn’t fleeting in the sense that a breeze is fleeting, or a flash of lightening. It is momentary, in that we make the mistake of loving only momentarily. Love exists. I know that it exists. It exists when I cause it to exist. It exists when I give it life, and action, and voice. It exists when I acknowledge it and when I nurture it. It exists, more so than anything else this world has to offer. Love love, because it is so precious. Make it your flag, and wave it.

[Images via Pinterest]