Is there?
Do you think that
there's an end to love?
What I mean is, the longer someone's gone, do you think the love diminishes? Is there a limit to its length?
I think that every day the answer to that question is different. Some days the loss is as fresh as the day the love left. Some days, you can breathe, not think of it for a stretch, sometimes just for an hour or a few minutes, sometimes for days. Sometimes you'll go a day or a week without breathing once because the loss is suffocating. It takes different faces: anger, hurt, longing. Sometimes it's bittersweet joy, because for a moment, you had it all. I want to tell you the pain gets easier, but it doesn't. You only learn to bear it. But there's comfort in knowing you loved and were loved in return, even though it's no consolation. Only a truth you carry around with you forever.
There is no length to love; it's infinite. It lives in you always. Hold on to it.
It hurts, but that's how you know it was real.
What I mean is, the longer someone's gone, do you think the love diminishes? Is there a limit to its length?
I think that every day the answer to that question is different. Some days the loss is as fresh as the day the love left. Some days, you can breathe, not think of it for a stretch, sometimes just for an hour or a few minutes, sometimes for days. Sometimes you'll go a day or a week without breathing once because the loss is suffocating. It takes different faces: anger, hurt, longing. Sometimes it's bittersweet joy, because for a moment, you had it all. I want to tell you the pain gets easier, but it doesn't. You only learn to bear it. But there's comfort in knowing you loved and were loved in return, even though it's no consolation. Only a truth you carry around with you forever.
There is no length to love; it's infinite. It lives in you always. Hold on to it.
It hurts, but that's how you know it was real.
Comments
Post a Comment
Hi, i would love to hear from you