I’ve been thinking about the updated population of the world. After some quick Googling, I saw that we’re already at 8.3 billion. Just wow. More than eight billion people out there. And yet, at one point in my life, I was convinced I had already found The One. Looking back, I think it’s strange that I ever believed my search was over.
But maybe that’s the thing about love. It makes the world feel smaller, as if billions of people shrink into one person – your person. And when that person disappears, suddenly the world feels impossibly big again, almost too vast to navigate. I can’t tell if that’s comforting or terrifying, knowing that somewhere in those billions, there are endless chances and endless beginnings.
Still, I’d like to look at the comforting side. What helps me move forward is choosing to see the brighter parts of it all. I know how scary it is out there. When something meaningful ends, trusting again becomes difficult. I’ve been there – and if I’m honest, I’m not entirely sure I’ve fully stepped out of it yet. All I know is that my guard went up. I started doubting new connections. But the real fear, I would say, was in myself. As a matter of fact, there’s a question mark on whether I still have it in me to love the way I used to.
But maybe that’s another thing about love. We might not feel or give in the exact same way again. And we shouldn’t, if it means losing ourselves. Yet we don’t need to mourn the version of us that loved deeply. That version mattered. It showed how much we’re capable of loving and taught us the lessons we carry now. Those lessons don’t depreciate love; they allow it to evolve. They’re value added, shaping the way we open our hearts next with more depth, more clarity, and more intention.
So, here’s to finding the courage to believe in love again. Courage dust to us all 🌠
Leave a comment