In the quiet solace of passing days, love took its leave, a silent thief in the night, departing without a trace. It wandered through the wilderness of the unknown, through the thicket of uncharted hearts, and in its journey, it shed its old skin. When love returned, it was not as it once was. It looked upon me with new eyes, eyes that had seen the dawn of distant horizons and the dusk of forgotten lands. Its hands, once familiar, were now those of a stranger, reshaped by the embrace of novel experiences and tender moments that I had not shared.

Its voice, a melody that once resonated with the very beat of my heart, now spoke in tones that danced to unfamiliar tunes. And its heart—oh, its heart—was an enigma, a rhythm I had not learned, a song I had not sung. Yet, in this unrecognizable form, love was resplendent, a testament to the beauty of transformation and the boundless potential of the soul.

Yes, love had left, but upon its return, it was as if the universe had conspired to expand the very essence of its being. It was a love reborn, not just returned; a love that transcended the confines of past affections and bloomed into something more profound, more encompassing. In its newfound grandeur, I found forgiveness not just a choice but an inevitability, for this love—so new, so unexpected—was a gift greater than memory, a promise vaster than the sky.

And so, I welcomed love back, not with the chains of the past, but with open arms ready to embrace the future. For love, in its infinite journey, had become more beautiful than I had ever imagined, and bigger than I had ever hoped. It was not just love that had returned; it was a new beginning, a new chapter in the book of my heart, waiting to be written with the ink of acceptance and the quill of hope.

Copyright © Beatriz Esmer