To Choose Love
It's so easy to break things.
To walk away from what took years to build
and call it freedom.
We live in a world that rewards moving on
where everything is disposable,
where starting over is mistaken for strength.
But to stay.
To believe against the evidence.
To open the same door that once closed on your fingers
that takes something else entirely.
I've been hurt. I broke.
I know exactly how this story can end.
And still
Maybe because I can.
Maybe because something in me refuses to stop believing.
I want to build something that lasts.
To stop running and finally face the thing I've been running toward.
To be all in. Fully present. Unguarded for once.
Everyone might be right.
There may be no chance here at all.
But my desire doesn't lie to me.
It never has.
And even when it makes no rational sense,
I find I still believe it.
Because in the darkest moments, I chose love over fear.
In the hardest ones, I held the vision of everything working out
and somehow, it did.
On the blackest days, when anxiety swallowed everything,
I dreamed of us.
I imagined love winning.
And I felt it. Like a fact.
So maybe I'm wrong.
Maybe I'll prove everyone right.
Or maybe love will win.
I choose to believe in it
the reckless, impractical kind.
The kind that risks everything
for one more moment with the one my soul recognizes.
I may fall.
I may not be able to get up.
This could be the end of me.
And maybe not.
I choose love.
Not the kind I've seen modeled or inherited
the kind that doesn't exist yet.
The kind I have to invent.
The kind I have to keep choosing every morning
until it becomes real.
This isn't rational.
Like a child who falls and falls and falls
and gets up anyway
not because falling doesn't hurt,
but because walking is worth it
I choose to rise.
Again. And again. And again.
Because choosing love isn't passive.
It's the most active thing a person can do.
It means pouring every thought, every feeling, every ordinary moment
into the direction of love
until you stop seeking it
and become it.
Until it breathes.