I used to hope that there would be fireworks and confetti

when love found me again.

I begged for some kind of sign that I would be able to

see or hear

or feel all the screaming yeses promising me that love had really come back around.

I practiced noticing the subtle differences between the knights

and the late night

phone calls.

I hoped that when love showed up on my doorstep,

I’d be able to see it in his eyes.

But when love comes back,

it doesn’t drop a pin to let you know where it’s at.

It doesn’t wave his arms in the air and tell you all of the reasons he’s going to save you.

When love shows up,

it restores your faith that you’ve already done all of the work

to save yourself.

When love comes back,

it just kind of happens.

It doesn’t have anything to prove

or anything to show.

When love comes back,

it just

Is.

And somehow it feels like everything has changed

and nothing has changed

all at the same time.

One day life is one way

and then very next day your life

is never the same

again.

When love returns,

even the unknowns

feel like home.

I used to pray for a sign that I’d know for sure when love found me again.

But as these legs carry me every mile

away from the hurt,

I’m learning that often times

when you start the scary walk to find yourself,

You’ll find love waiting there, too.

And so, I kept walking.

When I was reaching for the lost parts of me,

It was your hands

I found.

And that,

That feels a lot like love.