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They sat in the garden facing one another, unable to look up. He wore sunglasses in any case. When she tried to see his eyes, she could not. Perhaps it was better that way. The space between them was heavy—laden with fear—though they carried it differently. She wanting to run. He wanting to hold her close and never let go.

She never thought of herself as afraid of love. She was an open heart beating with wonder, she thought. But the last time…the last time, it all ended in a moment—a moment two years ahead of actually parting ways. So what if they had already had their moment? What if they were now biding their time to say goodbye?

Her friend had said, “You are smarter than this. Your heart wants to understand, not to judge. You will have to be honest about your fears. It’s the only way to feel at peace.”

Pushing past the lies in her brain, she breathed into the truth in her chest. It was too easy to blame him. The work here was to face all of it and let the chips fall where they may. With fear at the helm, she would keep running, but love? Love may just let him in.

She walked a tightrope in her mind. The fear of falling was palpable, but there was a voice. There was a voice so soft it made her think of pillows to cushion her landing. It reminded her of a mother’s whispers to her baby, of a father’s promise to his son. This voice was quiet. She had to strain to hear. Or perhaps she simply had to become quiet, too?

She closed her eyes and focused on the air leaving her lungs. She watched her fears fight it out in her head. She gave each one away in silent prayer. And in the end, she chose Love.

They sat in their garden facing one another, unable to look away. His eyes were clear and kind, and she had the thought: ‘Maybe his eyes always looked this way?’ The space between them was light but narrow. And now, they could not get close enough. She wanting to melt into his arms. He wanting to hold her close and never let go.

Photo by Tima Miroshnichenk


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