Is Love Ever Really Lost?

At the Heart of Things by Nathan Jalani Taylor

Dear Heartbreak,

It’s amazing how easily I could dismiss the love that was lost as not meant to be but the heartbreak that continues to cling on seems inevitable. For some odd reason it was so easy to accept that the love just wasn’t what I thought the love was and even easier to accept that the heartbreak should be exactly what I thought it to be. I can’t help but wish that you would have given me my heart back before you broke it, leaving me with only the love that filled my heart.

A year ago my committed long-term relationship turned a corner and began on a direction that would take two lovers far from one another. We hadn’t hit rock bottom yet, although it was quickly becoming clear that the bottom was falling out of this thing. A man with whom I once laid beside in bed countless hours planning a future with, thinking about children and houses and flowing white wedding dresses followed by a tropical honeymoon that would bear the fruit of our fun was quickly walking out of my life and along with him went his love, went each promise, went the forever I’d planned on for so long. His departure left behind my heartbreak and in the beginning I was so ratcheted with pain all I could see was the love that I was losing, the misery I would forever be left to endure.

In denial I thought, I’ll find love again, love will find me again. Surely this is not the end, quite possibly it is simply a new beginning. To my surprise it has been a year and in that year I’ve stumbled upon the heartbreak again and again, always finding a new level of pain, a new relationship to the hurt or a new way to numb the presence of emptiness that resides where love once lay. To my surprise the love has not been lost.

Even when I don’t want to admit it I can’t help but notice that when I speak about him I have to remind myself to put EX in front of the word boyfriend that had become such a familiar reference when including him in my conversation. I can close my eyes and turn the other way and it doesn’t change the way my heart patters when he walks in the room, the way I almost call him when I come across something in life I once would have so naturally shared with him. I still think I’m faxing him when I think of him and he calls later that evening, I still think he looks so handsome all dressed up and ready for the next step he’s embarking upon along his journey of life. I laugh to myself and eventually out loud as I think about football discussions we’ve had, draft picks we totally disagree on and game plays we are in complete agreement against the ref about.

Which brings me back to my original thought: Is Love Ever Really Lost?

I would venture to say that there’s more to the saying “It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.” because loving only feels like losing and losing only seems like defeat. In reality, the love I have for you has just been carefully folded into a tiny little box, stored away in order for us to separately blaze new trails in life, to do what it takes in order that we would not be left as the house by the side of the road, the house that stands alone.

I still dream you, I still cry out for you when the pain is so intense it seems only you have the remedy, I still turn to you when life gets so hard only you can understand the words that aren’t spoken, the voice that has yet to emerge past the depths of the pain life inflicts. You are not my only love, you are not even my first love, life has been full of love of all kinds and people have come and borrowed my love, returned my love, abused my love, tripled my love and given me love and yet in all of that I am quite sure that love has never been lost. Stored away like winter  clothes when the first blossom of spring has sprung and at times forgotten about but never lost.

I loved you then and  I’ll love you always.

Love Always,

Sunny

 

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