By: Laura Lee Cochran 2024
Stardust becomes ash. Galaxies become grave sites. All that was glorious becomes mundane all with a simple sentence.
“I don’t love you anymore”
As if love could be quenched.
I don’t believe love ever has an end. I’m sure it has a beginning. Everything we know starts with a genesis. Butterflies in your stomach, a chance meeting, a long conversation turned to two. Love has to have a beginning, a moment where something ordinary becomes something exceptional, more true and exact. But does every beginning need an end? Is there something that breathes an eternity? Something beyond what we know? Perhaps, a continuation of the now?
Love seems to be an emotion that never runs dry, something that is steadfast through the ages. It sings hymns of bliss and intimacy, drawing you in to listen for more. Love seems to never fade or diminish, but to grow more full and mature. Love seems to stand tall when everything else cowers. Love seems to pull people together, not apart. But most importantly, love seems to connect in a way nothing else on this earth is able to do.
So if this is what love is, then how can it possibly end? How can something so pure be divulged into something inhumane. Much less, something so scarce and undignified; holding no respect or remorse. How can it be a connection one day and then riddled with apathy and resentment the next? The act of love ending is a lie. Because I truly believe that love, in its purest form, never reaches a conclusion.
What I've come to know is that love bounces on stars leaving stardust to twinkle in the night sky. Love erupts galaxies into existence, bringing connection to all of creation. Love brings glorious songs and joyful tears through long years spent together. Love outshines the mundane, reminding you how special it is to hold it close. Love is eternal.
That is what love is. So if you say it ends, was it really love?
If so, did you really love me to begin with?