The Wayward Girl 2


I do have a lot to say but I wonder if I will ever find the words, to tell you what I really feel.

To tell you that maybe we are better off by ourselves and maybe the price we are paying for love is like most of the things in our inflation-ridden lives more than the price of what they are worth.

Maybe all we will think about when we are apart is each other but there will be a dignity in that grief. I am afraid of the bitterness that could infect our words and our relationship and eventually our lives till all the beauty and joy we found in each other is spent, like our youth.

How do I find the words to tell you that love like fruit is essential, yet never enough by itself? That the love we have was doomed from the very moment we set our eyes on each other’s damaged souls and allowed ourselves to believe that love and only love is enough to heal our brokenness.

And any man who has lived with a basic amount of honesty will tell you, that this life is bleak and that love is only a flickering light that may go out. At times, it shines brighter than anything you’ve seen, I know, but it shines bright because it doesn’t last and that brief stunning light is blinding when if you look straight at it. That elusive moment of light in itself is never enough to show you your way or redeem you. And the only thing that can ever save you from everlasting darkness and grief is the light you hold in yourself, you, alone and unadulterated by someone else’s reflected glow.


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