Some things are only true for a time, doomed to become lies. Beautiful love cuts away pieces of your soul, making it easy to surrender to the wisdom of the foolish and broken and jaded and the allure of open spaces and green grass.
It is easier to believe a smiling lie than a hurting truth.
Belief in a lie gives it hope and fuel until it burns with a truth all its own, a firestorm which sucks the oxygen from everything, consuming, destroying, burning, with self-fulfilling ferocity.
A lie becomes reality, not because it should, but because it’s easier clinging to a falsehood, wrapping it close and warm, rather than taking a naked look in the mirror. Anger, bitterness and pain whisper fragments of a story which has truth in it, but was never the whole. It’s only later we realize the deception, the undermine and erosion, and the consequences which ripple across lifetimes and generations.
Love is hard. It’s patient and kind and mean as hell and destroyes and creates. It’s late nights with babies, singing songs and diapers at three in the morning and believing when faith doesn’t make sense. It’s hope and failure and anguish and joy and dreams and nightmares shared. It’s tenderness and tenacity, touch and joy, forgiveness and work. Love is laughter and agony and hope. Love doesn’t give up, even when it looks like it should. Love is life and death and rebirth.
Love is a feather caress in the dark of the night when the walls are closing in and a grateful cup of coffee when the light breaks soft and warm, steaming with a hope almost forgotten. Love remembers.
It’s falling in and out and finding each other again because being “in love” all the time is rainbows and uniciorns. It’s the grit and the grin and the tenacity that make love worth more than a fleeting sigh or a country song, the history and future which make a beautiful love.
It’s the trenches and the peaks, the blood and crud and overcoming after all of it, where you look back and know. Where you reclaim a truth that seemed absent because darkness is hungry and mean and devours love whenever it can.
Beautiful love grows together and makes new, creates, sustains, and builds.
A beautiful love is the rareist thing on this earth.