great loves
over a year ago, i stood at the edge of a dance floor, watching one of the most beautiful friends in my life sailing around the room on the arm of the only man she’d ever, and will ever, love. i cried, the only time i cried at her wedding, and her father came up to me quietly and put his arm around my shoulder.
“this will happen for you, too. and we’ll be there, my family, to cry happy tears for you.” his comforting arm, his intuition, and his kindness just made me cry harder, so he took me outside for a cigarette and told me funny stories about growing up in india.
the intervening year and its disappointments has built up a hard ugly layer of cynicism over a belief i’ve cherished for years – that great love is really the only thing worth fighting for and nothing trumps it. for reasons that will stay close to my heart, reasons both personal and external, something’s happened to slough off that scar tissue of disappointed detachment.
i remember what it felt like to watch her dance with him and know i’d find that someday. i look at my coupled friends with renewed appreciation of their passion. i believe in great love again. i always did. i can’t believe i spent a year blustering otherwise.
welcome, spring.