When it is real, it will crush you.
But in the way that grapes are crushed for wine.
It will rip off your eyelids.
But in the way that allows you to see more daylight.
It will smash its waves endlessly against you.
But in the way that roots you into the courage to stand up and walk into the calmer depths.
When love is real, it will always be there to help you stand up after it has knocked you down. It will dry your cheeks with its kisses and lift your chin to the sky.
As you blink your eyes in the sun, love will remind you that the tears you’ve spilled are not from agony, but from the joy of being birthed. Again and again and again.
When love is real, sometimes it hurts.
My advice? Let it in anyway.
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