You saw my heart lying on the floor.

She was battered.

Hairline fractures, deep breaks and bloody scabs covered the sunny sequins on her hot pink skin.

She was scared, trembling alone in a vulnerable dark corner.

You knew this.

But, you swooped down, picked her up with silken hands and kissed her so softly.

You warmed her wounds in the sunbeams of your sweet embrace and saw gold in the bloody folds and dark valleys of her shame.

You showed her that gold.

You showed me that gold.

You encouraged me, inspired me, lifted me out of a hellish half-life, and introduced me to myself.

You didn’t fix me; you loved me.

You squeezed me with unwavering kindness through endless wars of worthlessness and touched my tears with tenderness so unfamiliar I only wept more.

You unveiled my long-lost voice, somehow seeing her wispy body underneath thick layers of guilt and tulle.

You encouraged me to speak, begged me to be loud, thirsted for my thorny jewels of naked truth.

You didn’t save me; you loved me.

I was afraid of love before I met you.

But, you took my hand and showed me that it doesn’t have to be abusive or horror-movie scary.

No.

Love can be a gift.

It can be a perfectly imperfect, mind-blowing, soul-shaking, brand-new beginning.

It can be a rebirth more beautiful than spring.

It can be magic.

Yes.

My whole world changed the day you picked up my heart from that dark, whiskey-scented alley.

She laughs now.

She roars now.

She sings loudly, with lioness-like intensity.

You helped her remember her wildness.

You helped me remember my wildness.

I was so afraid of love before I met you.

But, what we share is so wise and pure; it feels as natural as breathing.

And me?

I’m beaming, like I’ve never beamed before.

My soul is smiling, sprinting outside to dance in the breeze.

You loved me to life.

I’m not so afraid anymore.

 

 

Author: Sarah Harvey

Editor: Evan Yerburgh

Photo: Flickr/EMILIE RHAUPP