In the first week after my husband’s death, I tried to break up with my boyfriend nine times. Every time the conversation went like this.
Me: I’m such a mess since my husband died and I wasn’t even in love with him. I can’t stand the thought of losing someone I’m in love with so I’m going to break up with you before it’s too late.
Boyfriend: Ah… no.
Part of me realises that being in love means my heart will get broken one day. We’ll either break up or one of us will die leaving the other behind. It’s a pain waiting for me somewhere off in the future.
But I’m OK with that now. The difference love makes to my life every single day is worth the eventual pain of loss.
There is always loss — parents, partners, friends, pets and possibly our children. The only way to stay away from the pain is to never love at all.
I give you permission to break my heart because when I’m willing to risk everything, I give myself permission to experience the brightness and light of deep connection with another human being.
I fall into the abyss of love knowing that when the pain comes, the imprint of your love on my heart will continue to guide me through it.