AFTER(YOU)

 

After there was you, there was me.

With my heart and mind exhausted from being at war with each other.

Turns out everything I knew about love wasn't entirely true.

I thought strength dominated all forces on a battlefield,

but nothing brings a man to his knees faster than the fear of losing someone he loves.

Contrary to what I thought,

love doesn't always fit into tidy boxes.

It's not always neat and simple.

It's more than I ever expected,

and more than I thought I could handle.

It gets messy too.

The fights that feel too loud, and the apologies that come too late.

But it's also beautiful.

The silly inside jokes, how your name sounds different when they say it,

and the way you'll do anything to see them smile.

Even when its not easy, and makes no sense,

somehow its the only thing that makes sense at all.

I learnt that the heaviness you feel sometimes,

may just be the weight of someone else's world,

trying to fit into yours.

In most cases, it's two broken pieces,

mismatched like two seperate puzzle pieces.

It's not always perfect, but exactly what you need,

to make the picture whole.

Time stops, and then starts again.

Sometimes you fight for a future,

other times you realize the real battle is letting go.

Sometimes it's the thing that catches you when you fall,

other times it's the fall itself.

It knocks on your door when you least expect it,

and you suddenly forget where the handle is.

It's overwhelming and terrifying,

exposes the things you prefer to keep hidden.

Challenges you to do better, and cheers you on while at it.

It's seeing all parts of the other person, 

and staying anyway.

Loving you changed me in many ways,

and this new version of me understands

that change isn't always a bad thing.

The change of selflessness,

that prays you find happiness,

even if it isn't with me.

This kind of change brought me even closer to God.

Who better to fix a broken heart than the one who created it?

I can only now imagine a small fraction of what God probably feels.

Continuously waiting, with no assurance that we would want Him and no one else.

I know now that love is sacrifice and breeds hope.

Years of watering, hoping that the seeds would sprout,

and not wither in drought.

But one of the things about love I find utterly beautiful,

is that just when you think you've reached the final page,

it starts over again.

In a different language.

With a new meaning.

                                   -L.M ROSE