I haven’t felt much of an urge to write lately. Every now and then, words fail me, even when my mind is humming with frenetic fever. Then on Friday, I sat on the edge of a flower bed on Church Street, my new favorite location in Montclair, and I spilled my thoughts to Google Keep. Silently I sat and reflected on what is, what’s been, and what’s soon to come.
I’ve been relatively quiet here because I’ve had a hard time with life lately. As excited as I was about a new beginning with Bryan, I worried about our future. How was it that two perfectly functioning human beings with a similar outlook on life couldn’t find common ground to stand on? I fretted and tried to think of an appropriate eulogy to sum up our time together. We were beyond repair, I told myself, and I turned him into the enemy. I analyzed everything he said and convinced myself that after two years, he must’ve fallen out of love with me. Surely I would be strong enough to weather another breakup and heartache.
Then one evening we went outside and saw each other in the moonlight… raw, yet tender. Something I said sat with him a moment longer than I had expected and he reached out to hug me. I sobbed. In that one moment, I let go of bitter anger and resentment.
Who knew that what I really wanted all this time was a hug–a reason to believe we were more than just passing ships and roommates. I melted into his arms, grateful for a chance to see the softer side of Bryan I had fallen in love with.
It was yet another reminder that love–like life–is full of hardships and challenges.
This weekend was a busy one with lots of family obligations. When my parents came to visit us in the new digs for the first time, I could tell how happy they were about our new life together. I thought about how my very own parents–two incredibly different people–could still be together all these years, and all I could come up with was one word:
Without a bit of pain, some work, and relentless energy, I would never appreciate the light and the meaning in a bella luna.