falling in love again.

 oh, my dearest heart. how fascinating you are, falling in love again and again. with every turn of this labyrinthine life, the paradigm shifts and you find yourself returning to a version of you you never were but always you knew held deep inside.

isn’t it terribly perilous to keep falling again for life when it has so menacingly betrayed your trust? I find myself unable to keep up with that cynical temptation to be at the side lines. there are wings that were made to land only for the temporary, finding themselves in their skies again.

I seem to be willing to have my heart broken again and again, just to have it healed in a renaissance. alongside the glimmering lights of ancient towns and riversides that welcome shivery winter walks, warmed by hands swaying in an embrace.

my trust is inexhaustible. a trust that even if I’m failing and not seeing things through, the heartbreak is meant just for me. at least, the disappointment will be real. there’s an empowering authority in being able to take in all frequencies of hurt inadvertently. it seems I need to be swallowed by the waves just to feel what it was. losing my balance when I need it most.

but that’s fine. I find it akin to stepping into my truest power. I can take everything in. my resilience. my elastic heart. my ever-expanding perception that fluidly embraces all the colours of my experiences as a human. the notion that I can hurt people and love them, too. torture them, but be their gift. know their weaknesses and break them with it, unknowingly, but somehow, still conscious that I can never run away from it.

and so, my dearest heart. I allow you to be who you are meant to be. surprise me.