This Is Love

If you were to walk past the house with the overgrown grass and weeds, you would see a lone light lit in the upstairs window. Another tumultuous spat between two lost lovers. What’s said is neither here nor there, it’s the same scene most nights. What is not said would probably be more of note anyway. Each of them is blinded by differing perspectives. Maybe the thing of most note is the willingness of both to fight. Against or for, unknown. I can only speak for myself, ready to come clean, my admission rings through the air. I justify it to myself. The look on his face feels like he’s known. His words are those of of acceptance. I’m shocked, if anything, at his response to the thing I thought would have to make us call it quits. He shows me grace and shows himself in a new light. This is the same man I have held a grudge against for so long, I begin to think. I can’t quite shake the suspicion he read from my journal when I’d driven off that night. I have this unnerving inkling, yet I keep my head held high, cornered, but I know I can’t back down. He asks me to reveal more lies and I walk through my mind and find that I have been honest to a fault to this man who is a stranger. Love grows through grace, that’s how I know I can’t leave this place. Is this where I will learn to love, I ask myself.

I learn to love myself.